Martha My Dear
by mcplestreet
Summary: "They're giving you a false sense of hope before they eventually terminate all of you." "And you can help us?" After unsuccessfully saving the world the Umbrella Academy is stuck in 1997 and officially out of ideas until someone from Five's past steps in. The siblings quickly learn that the commission is much more of a threat than they could have imagined. Post season one Five/OC
1. Prologue: Finally Free

Hello all and welcome to a new story! This will definitely be different for me, and not just because this story isn't Stranger Things based, but I hope you al enjoy regardless. And if you've come from my other in-progress stories don't worry! I'm still working on those as well. but I've suddenly become obsessed with this show/comic/world and couldn't help myself!

It may be awhile since I update again since I really want to plan this story out but I at least wanted to get the prologue out. I hope you lovelies enjoy :)

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Martha Montgomery was many things, but one thing she hadn't been in a long time was free. Though the air inside her room and the hallway were the same it smelled much sweeter when she stepped outside of her own free will for the first time in 60 years, looking just as young as she had the last time she'd done something that was her own choice. Though she knew she didn't have any time to dilly dally she allowed herself just a moment to soak up a moment of peace she doubted she would have again for a while. How long it would be she couldn't say. Time, like many things, was relative.

As quickly as her moment of peace had come it was gone and she was back to her mission. Everything she could possibly plan for had been carefully mapped out for over a week. And yet she knew that the element of surprise had never exactly been on her side. She was either going to walk out of the building a free woman or in a body bag. Martha knew this and was fine with it. If she was successful what, or who, she would be facing was worth every risk in the world.

The key was confidence. To walk through the hallways like she was meant to be there just as much as anyone else. She wasn't sure how many people would recognize her, it had been a long time since anyone besides her handlers and higher ups had seen her. Martha held her chin higher and did her best to push these worries out of her mind. The first step of her plan was the hardest; get a briefcase.

She knew she could get one. She just didn't know if she could get one without making a scene.

Martha was already a little out of place with what she was wearing. The only clothes she could get her hands on besides the collection of sweats she'd been wearing for the past 60 years was her outfit from the last mission she'd ever gone on. She and her old partner were sent to terminate a police officer that would have done a traffic stop on Mark David Chapman, the man that killed John Lennon. Something went wrong and there she was in the same bell bottom jeans and cropped sweatshirt, very against the commissions uniform policy.

She felt people's gazes linger on her as she passed. She was familiar to them, they just didn't know why. Which was fine with her as long as they didn't place her.

The layout of the commission was as familiar to her as the back of her own hand, and it wasn't long before she was standing in front of the security desk that was the only thing left between her and the locked room of briefcases. Through the window they seemed to stare back at her, beckoning her to them. _We need you, Martha. We all need you._

"Can I help you?" the security guard asked her, suspicion in his voice already. Perhaps her choice of attire wasn't the best.

Martha put on her brightest, most polite smile she could manage. "Yes, you can." She told him, "I need a briefcase."

He seemed to resist the urge to roll his eyes at her. "I'm going to need to see some authorization and identification first." By the tone of is voice Martha guessed the man in front of her was confident she wouldn't be able to produce them.

On the surface Martha seemed very average. Average height, average weight, average attractiveness. But the dozens of needle and IV marks under the sleeve of her sweatshirt and 60 years worth of experiments proved differently. It took only a matter of seconds before the guard's expression became confused and dazed.

"I'm sorry, I think you misunderstood me." Martha said, her voice sickly sweet. "I need a briefcase."

The security guard blinked at her a few times, the words taking a moment to properly sink into his head. He then stood up and walked over to the door, Martha following close behind, unlocking it and pushing it open. She slipped inside and grabbed one of the many off the shelves before he could come to his senses. Platform heels weren't the easiest shoes to move in but she did her best to speed walk away, her grip on the briefcase tight enough to turn her knuckles white.

Stage one had been completed. Stage two; track down the time and location of her target.

"Martha?"

She whipped around and immediately spotted Evelyn, the woman who had been in charge of her for almost the entirety of the past 60 years, standing only a yard away and staring at her in shock.

New plan; find a room to lock herself in and track down her target the hallway.

She turned and sprinted down the hall, onlookers parting like the red sea at the sight of a woman dressed ready for a war protest being perused by one of the few people in the commission who had allowed herself to age over 50. Evelyn had aged 80 of the 638 years that she had been alive and could still run like a spry young teen. Martha, who had been in the body of her 17 year old self for almost 200 years, had never exactly been a track star. She clutched the briefcase close to her chest and set out for the 5th flood supply closet, the closest door that locked where she knew she would be alone.

The original plan was to avoid making a scene. But the original plan hadn't included being chased down so she figured it was safe to veer off course a little bit. The sound of her heels colliding with the floor seemed to amplify in her ears while she looked over her shoulder. She thrust one of her hands out and watched Evelyn fly back about 10 feet as if she had been pushed. Unvoluntary witnesses gasped in shock.

She forced herself to run faster while she still had a head start. The supply closet was 2 right turns and 1 left away. She was _so_ close.

Her mind was surprisingly clear while she ran. All the memories she and her partner had made ran through her mind, making her heart ache with her desperation to find him again. There were many times in her life where she had thought failure was not an option. Never had such a statement been so true.

When she finally made it to the closet she burst through the door and smashed her finger against the lock. Martha pressed her back against the wall and squeezed her eyes shut, attempting to connect her mind with his. It was such a long shot, but she had to. "Come on, where are you, where are you, where are you?" she mumbled to herself. Or more to him.

She eventually heard Evelyn pounding her fist against the other side of the door but Martha could hardly process it she was so focused on the task at hand. Her head was pounding and her veins were popping with struggle but she forced herself to push forward until a thought in a voice other than her own came into her head.

April 12th 1997, Greenwich.

Without hesitation Martha ripped open the suitcase and was sucked into the land in between, neither here nor there, and thrust into a different time and place entirely.


	2. Chapter 1: Ghost of a Girl

Wow thank you so much for all the support on this story already! This chapter is definitely a lot longer than the last one but I hope you'll stick with me. Also some periods of time have been changed for continuity's sake, so if the timeline of this story and the show don't match up please forgive me! I did the math as best I could. Anyways I hope you enjoy!

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_April 12__th__ 1997 6:45 pm. Greenwich, London, the top floor of the oldest apartment in town._

The Umbrella Academy, a family that thrived on personal space, had been crammed into a 2 bedroom apartment for 7 excruciating days. It was bad enough that they'd failed to save the world but now they had to spend time together. Alison and Vanya had one room, Five and Luther had another, and Klaus and Diego were sharing the pullout couch in the living room and had the majority of the responsibility of being lookout. Even while the rest of them were eating dinner in various spots in the living room Diego was still sitting in the windowsill with his eyes glued on the street.

"What exactly are we looking for?" Klaus asked in between bites of his dinner. "These commission people aren't going to stand outside with a sign announcing their arrival. They're going to be sneaky about it."

"It's better to be safe than sorry." Diego replied flatly.

"And you never know with them." Five pointed out. "They aren't always subtle. They like to make a production of things when they can."

"That's helpful." Klaus said sarcastically.

Vanya, who was sitting on the couch next to Five, turned to face him. "And you haven't heard _anything_ from them? Is there a chance they don't know where they are?"

Five shook his head. "They know. Truthfully I think they're so certain our plan is doomed that they're just letting us try."

No one knew how to reply to this statement. They continued to eat their food in silence.

Diego looked away from the view out the window long enough to crumple up the wrapper from his dinner and toss it into the garbage can across the room. Imagine his surprise when he looked out the window and spotted a young woman standing in the middle of the street that hadn't been there a second before.

"Girl with a briefcase." He said, his voice coming out as startled as he felt.

Everyone dropped their food and hurried over to the window to get a look at the woman. In the late 90's everyone was dressed in black or plaid she stuck out like a sore thumb. Underneath high waisted bell bottom jeans they could see chunky platform heels. She had on a cropped, long sleeve floral sweatshirt that went down past her wrists. As they all watched her as she looked up at the building and used her hand to shield her eyes from the sun. Though her outfit and platinum blonde hair made her look ready for a trip to the beach it was clear, despite the distance, that she was pale. Even for London.

Diego forced the window open and reached for one of his knives. "I can probably get her in one go, we'll just have to worry about witnesses."

Five grabbed the knife from his hand and yanked it out. "No, let me handle this." He said sternly. "Don't do anything to hurt her, got it?"

He hardly waited for a response before he disappeared from the room. The siblings all looked at each other, used to Five's erratic behavior by then but still surprised that he seemed determine to handle everything on their own. But, for once, they were fully working together.

The young woman was still squinting up at the building when Five appeared on the sidewalk 10 feet away from her. Up close it was now undeniable that he knew her. She was an unforgettable type of person to anyone that knew her. Uncharacteristically for him Five felt his hands begin to clam and his stomach start to churn as he approached her. Seeing her in the same outfit she had been in the last time they'd been together was jarring. Was he asleep, living in a particularly realistic dream. It wouldn't have been the first time she came to him in an unconscious state.

She dropped her hand back to her side and her gaze fell onto him. Both of them seemed frozen in their place for a moment. He knew he looked different from the last time they'd seen each other, but she looked exactly the same. Not a day older. Maybe not quite as vibrant, but other than that identical.

"Martha?" he asked, her name feeling foreign on his tongue when it had once been so familiar.

A smile exploded onto her face and she walked towards him until she was standing on the sidewalk only a few feet away. She was close enough that he could reach out and touch her, but he was afraid to do so in case she was just a figment of his imagination and she would disappear if he did so.

"You look young." She said, surveying him. Normally such a statement, and such a close gaze on him, would have made him feel small and insecure. But he knew she didn't mean it to make fun of him. She was, after all, used to seeing him in his mid to late 20's. Just as he was used to seeing her tanner and better rested.

"You look tired." He pointed out in reply.

For a moment he feared she would be offended. They used to take lighthearted jabs at each other all the time. But they hadn't seen each other in 30 years, and after the radio silence Five didn't have a clue how she felt about him.

But some of his worries faded away when a wide smile broke out on her face, one that brought back a million memories. "Touché." She said. Martha leaned down and set the briefcase on the ground with a small thud before looking back at him. "I missed you."

The words were hard for her to say, it was clear to him. Martha preferred to say things with actions rather than words. And though he just wanted to be happy about the fact that she was there he had decades worth of unanswered questions that were constantly nagging at him. "I wrote you all the time, and I never heard back. I thought you'd died on a mission. I thought I'd never see you again."

Martha's face fell slightly and Five wished he could take his words back but she spoke before he got the chance. "They wouldn't let me contact you. They didn't even give me your letters." She sighed and looked away from him for a moment. "You know how they are. Nothing gets past them, especially mail." Martha shook her head. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you before I was coming. I didn't exactly have the opportunity."

"You don't have to be sorry." Five assured her. "I'm glad you're here, Martha."

She looked back at him, seemingly shocked that he would say such a thing. Five was, frankly, shocked by her shock. "You are?"

He laughed, "Of course I am. You think I wouldn't miss you after everything we've been through?"

She shrugged her shoulders, "I just thought…" she began, but her voice trailed off and she never finished what she was saying.

Martha took the last few steps towards him and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him into a tight hug that he returned immediately. With her platform heels and his younger body she was taller than him, which was fine with Five since it allowed him to hide his face in her hair while he composed himself. Maintaining a poker face was something Five excelled at. Except for when it came to Martha. It was safe to say he had a soft spot for her.

"Why didn't you come sooner?" he asked her, for once not really caring if he sounded pathetic. "I've been so worried about you."

"Don't think I didn't try." She told him. "Our circumstances in the past 60 years haven't exactly been identical."

"50?"

He felt her nod. "The commission has been trying to fix the apocalypse mess you guys made for 30 years. Which is partly why I'm here."

Five stepped back from her, though not enough to completely separate the two of them. "Did they send you here to terminate me?" he asked her. "Because if they did I just want to talk to you for a little bit before we fight to the death."

Her eyes went wide like a deer in headlights. "What? Five, oh god, no." she quickly shook her head. "No, no, I'm here to help you guys. Right now the commission isn't interfering but if you get too close to succeeding then they'll step in."

"Yeah, they already did." He told her. "So you're going to stay with us?"

Martha nodded. "Of course I will. I mean, if you want me to."

He laughed again. "Are you kidding me? You're my partner. I need you more than ever, Martha."

Her face flushed bright pink. "Okay." She said. "I'll stay."

They headed back inside the building to go back upstairs to the apartment where the rest of the Umbrella Academy stepped away from the window. The show was over.

"Who the hell is that girl?" Luther asked, sitting on the armchair he had occupied before she showed up. "Did Five ever mention her to any of you?"

Everyone shook their heads.

"Well she's obviously with the commission." Diego said, the only one still at the window. "She came here with a briefcase. And she's clearly not from here, or now."

"Yeah but Five obviously trusts her." Vanya chimed in. "So maybe she isn't actually with them. I doubt he'd be so… welcoming of someone that would be a threat after everything that's happened."

"Maybe it's not that he trusts her." Klaus said. "Maybe it's… some other kind of feeling."

It took a moment for the other 4 siblings to understand exactly what Klaus was insinuating. When they did they all reacted with a combination of scoffs, headshakes, and expressions of shock.

"What?" he asked. "Why is that so outlandish?"

"Have you met Five?" Allison asked him. "He's the last person that would risk our safety for some girl."

"Yeah, but she's clearly not _some girl_." Klaus argued. "When's the last time you saw him hug someone? We didn't see him for 7 years, and for him it was 40. Did he give any of you hello hugs?"

Klaus, for once, had a point. Five wasn't exactly warm and fuzzy. He and Vanya had been closer to each other than anyone in the house at one point and she could count the amount of times they'd hugged on one hand. Even then she couldn't ever remember him holding onto her so tightly, like he never wanted to let go.

"But don't you think Five would have mentioned if he was close to someone in the commission right now?" Luther asked. "Especially after everything that's been going on? We need as much help as we can get, and I don't think Five would leave out something like that just for the sake of keeping secrets."

"Well, either way, we should be careful of this girl. Diego said, resuming his post by the window. "I don't care how well Five knows her, we can't just automatically trust her."

While none of them wanted to believe that Five would put them in any kind of danger they each knew from experience that emotions could easily get in the way of rational and critical thinking.

Outside in the hallway Five grabbed hold of Martha's hand before she could reach the doorknob. "Before you go inside," he said when she looked over at him, "I just want to warn you about my family. They're nosy, and they're gonna want to know everything about you. So if you have to tell me something in private we should probably go somewhere else first."

A small smirk spread across her face. "You know if you want to be alone with me you don't have to be so subtle about it."

Five felt his cheeks flush bright red and he quickly released his grip on her. "That's not what I meant." He said, sounding more defensive than he'd meant to and shoving his hands deep in his pockets. "I just meant…"

"I know what you meant, Five." She told him, "I'm just teasing you." Martha turned so she was fully facing him. "There's things they need to hear too. We'll catch up afterwards."

When Five had first met Martha she had been unreadable. He could never tell what she was thinking. But over time, and lots of nights sharing motel rooms, Five eventually learned how to read her as easily as a book. He'd at one point knew her almost as well as he knew himself. Now, however, as they stood in the hallway in 1997 he had no idea what she was thinking. He hated that they were practically strangers to each other again. Five was certainly a different person than he had been the last time they'd seen each other, and he was sure she was too.

"Should I be worried about what you're going to tell us?" Five asked her. He wasn't used to seeing her so serious. Or at least serious for Martha.

He fully expected her to crack some kind of joke to lighten the mood, something Martha had a knack for. Instead she just smiled at him, with a hint of sadness in her expression. "You probably should be."

Martha opened the door and walked into the apartment only moments after the rest of the Umbrella Academy had stopped talking about her. They all watched carefully as she set the briefcase down on the coffee table and sat down next to Five on the couch. Similar to their brother her face was young but something about her mannerisms was much older than she appeared to be.

"I should have found a way to call ahead." She said, mostly to Five. "Considering everything that's going on the sight of someone with a briefcase must have been jarring."

"Yeah, I almost plunged a knife in your chest." Diego cut in.

"But I'm sure," Five quickly added, "that if calling ahead was easy you would have done it."

Martha shrugged. "You know how things are with them. You have a very short window of opportunity to defy them."

"So if it's such a trouble why did you come?" Diego asked.

Five opened his mouth to snap at his brother but Martha spoke before he got the chance. "I understand that the position all of you are in is frustrating but, believe it or not, I'm here to help all of you." She leaned forward and rested her elbows on her knees. "The commission is well aware of where you all are and what you're planning. My guess is that they're giving you a false sense of hope before they inevitably send someone to terminate all of you."

"Lovely." Klaus said sarcastically.

"Which is why I came." Martha continued. "You guys have already successfully saved the world once. But the commission did what the commission does and got in the way of your plans. You need to figure out how to save the world without them interfering."

"And you can help us with that?" Luther asked, unable to keep himself from sounding skeptical.

She nodded her head. "There's no way you can go behind their backs when you don't know how they work."

"That's why we have Five." Diego pointed out.

Martha looked over at Five, suddenly looking ever so slightly nervous. "A lot has changed since you left. They're doing everything they can to stop you. Going back in time and stealing documents, killing anyone that might be able to help. There's now an entire team specifically dedicated to keeping an eye on all of you. It's only three people, but it's enough."

"Yeah, but that's all typical for them." Five said. "It's extreme, yes, but not completely outlandish."

"That's true." Martha agreed. "But tracking down the other 36 children born the same way as you is."

No one was expecting her to say such a thing. The Umbrella Academy had always known there were other children like them out there. The idea of finding out who they were had always been exciting. But thinking about those children, now adults, as people partnered with the people trying to kill them wasn't quite as exciting.

"What are they doing with them?" Vanya asked. "We've never met any of them so they can't be there for intel."

Martha shook her head. "No," she agreed, "They're not." She shifted on the couch, growing increasingly uncomfortable as the conversation went on. "They're training them, turning them into the perfect weapon to beat you. Pumping them full of steroids and other drugs to make them stronger faster."

Klaus whistled. "Jeez, all that for us?"

"Oh of course." Martha said. "They want you to think that they're not threatened by you, but that couldn't be further from the truth. They're terrified."

"But if they're terrified that means we have a chance, right?" Alison asked, perking up slightly. "Otherwise they wouldn't care."

"You definitely have a chance." She confirmed. "But it's a matter of doing everything in time. I have a briefcase so we can jump backwards or forward a few times, but I wouldn't trust something that belongs to them."

"Neither would I." Five chimed in. "As soon as they find out which one you took they'll track your every mood."

"And I doubt it will take very long. They're still working on replacing all those ones you destroyed."

"So how are we supposed to figure out how to save the world and go around their backs at the same time?" Diego, ever the pessimist asked, because that sounds pretty impossible to me."

"That's because doing both at the same time is impossible." Martha said. "Which is why we're going to worry about the commission first. Then we'll take it from there."

Suddenly everyone was even more overwhelmed than they already where.

⁂. ⁂ ⁂

After talking about as much as their brains could handle Alison and Luther ran to pick something up for Martha to eat while Vanya got her a change of clothes for the night. Five could tell his siblings were suspicious of their unexpected guest but pretended like he didn't notice. No matter how much time had passed he knew he could trust her.

They made small talk on the couch while she ate, all while Five was itching for the opportunity to talk to her alone. He could tell she was exhausted because she practically started falling asleep in the middle of eating. Five quickly pulled Luther to the side and asked if Martha could take his spot in their shared room. In that moment he was infinitely thankful he was sharing a room with Luther and not Klaus, knowing the teasing rom him would have been much worse. Everyone was still awake when they retreated into their now shared room and Five had the paranoid suspicion that his siblings would try to listen in on their conversation.

Martha sat down on the edge of the bed and seemed to deflate. He couldn't help but wonder what had happened to her. She had once quite literally been a ray of sunshine. She could have lit up a room just by being in it. In comparison to who she had been before she was dull.

"This is familiar, isn't it?" she asked, looking up at him. "Sharing a room?"

"Bed's more comfortable here than most motels." Five said, "And it doesn't cost a fortune to get something to eat."

She laughed quietly as a hint of sadness crossed her face. It was obvious she was keeping something from him and he wished she would just spit it out so he could help her.

"How's Deloris?" she asked him, the momentary sadness fading.

Five shrugged. "We… parted ways."

"What? Why?"

"We just didn't work as well together as we did during the apocalypse."

Martha frowned. "I'm sorry Five."

He simply shrugged again.

She let out a short sigh, crossing her legs underneath her. "I know you're upset with me. But please try to understand that I tried everything I could."

"I'm not upset with you."

"Then what are you?"

"I don't know." Five admitted. "I don't know how to feel." He began to pace the short length of the room, his fists shoved deep in his pockets. "I thought they sent you on a mission to purposely get you killed. I asked them about you all the time and they acted like they had no idea why you weren't writing me back. I thought I would never see you again, then I got stuck in time and stuck in this _stupid_ body, and my family is trying to help me but there's no point. They can't give me what I need."

"What do you need, Five?"

"I need you." He confessed, not quite able to look at her. "I need my partner."

Suddenly Martha seemed wide awake. She practically jumped off the bed and stood in front of him so he was forced to stop pacing. "I know it didn't feel like it but I was always there. I kept tabs on you all the time to make sure you were okay."

"But if you could keep tabs on me why couldn't you call?"

"It's complicated, Five. Really complicated."

"I didn't think I could do it without you."

Martha put her hands on his shoulders with a firm grip. With both their feet bare he was now just a hair taller than her, which he hated since he had once gotten neck cramps from having to look down at her. "You can." She said to him. "And you did."

"I don't want to anymore."

She pulled him close enough to wrap her arms around his neck while his locked around her waist. Five didn't remember her being so strong. He wasn't one for physical affection, or any kind of affection really, but he felt himself relax for what felt like the first time in decades. It probably was the first time in decades. The world was ending and the commission was still after them but Martha was alive and for a moment that was the only thing that really mattered.

"I still have a picture in my wallet." He said, his voice muffled from burying his face in her hair. "The mission to Paris in '63."

"Can I see?"

He kept one of his arms around her waist while he fished for his wallet and pulled out a faded polaroid. Though they weren't exactly supposed to sightsee on missions they usually managed to get away with it. At the top of the Eiffel Tower they'd gotten another tourist to take a picture of them. Five was much older than he looked now, by about 10 years, while Martha looked almost exactly the same. She had cracked some kind of joke right before the picture was taken they had been too busy laughing to pose.

"I love this one." She glanced over at him. "I spent the while time up there pretending like I wasn't afraid of falling to my death."

"Yeah, you didn't do a very good job."

She laughed and rested her head on his shoulder, staring wishfully at the picture.

"I missed you, Martha."

"I missed you, Five."

⁂. ⁂ ⁂

"Told you." Klaus said after he and Diego stepped away from Five and Martha's room and retreated back into the living room.

Diego shook his head. "We don't know anything we didn't before. You're just jumping to conclusions."

He gaped at his brother. "Did we just listen to the same conversation?" Klaus asked. "We can't give him what he needs because what he needs is her? He and Deloris 'parted ways'?" he used dramatic air quotes to emphasize his point. "He has a picture of her in his wallet for Christ's sake."

"Either way it doesn't matter, does it?" Diego asked. "You've seen how he's neem the past week. There's no way he's gonna be focused on some chick while the apocalypse is coming. Once he's over the excitement that she's here he'll go back to normal. Or normal for Five."

"He seems pretty focused on her already." Klaus muttered while he collapsed on the pullout couch.

Luther chimed in now that they were within earshot. "Is it just me or is Five even more confusing than ever?"

"It's not you." The two brothers agreed simultaneously.

"He told me he was with Deloris for 30 years." Klaus said. "He never mentioned an actual human girl."

"Maybe they were never actually together." Luther mused.

"I don't care if they were married, I don't trust her." Diego cut it, one more sitting on the ledge in front of the window. "She's obviously hiding something, even from Five. This whole story about her going rouge to help us defeat the commission could be bullshit. She could just be trying to get out trust. She clearly already has his."

"So what?" Luther asked. "You think Five's old girlfriend is here to take us all out?"

Diego shrugged. "Maybe, yeah."

"Who the hell is gonna tell Five that?"


	3. Chapter 2: Trying to Help

Holy shit the support on this so far is absolutely mind blowing. Thank you so much :') I hope you'll all stick around with me for the ride.

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_December 9th 1980, New York City_

Five, 29 years old and still looking his age, slammed his hand against the wheel of the car he was driving. "Damn this New York traffic." he muttered to himself, glancing in the rearview window. It was hard to imagine he was the same young boy that had been a member of the Umbrella Academy. Not only because of how more hardened his personality had become, and how exponentially his hand to hand combat had improved, but because of how different he looked. The apocalypse had forced him to get used to the feeling of facial hair and he now allowed himself as much stubble to grow out as possible before he started to look scraggly. One thing that hadn't changed, however, was his pale green eyes.

A hand reached over from the passengers side seat and rested on his arm. "Hey, relax." Martha said as soothingly as she could. One might think she looked identical to the day she appeared in Greenwich in 1997. The differences were subtle, but they were there. Her blonde hair barely went down past her shoulders and she was still growing out her bangs. Her smile was brighter and she had the remaining bit of her childlike innocence still about her, despite being older than 100 years old and being an experienced assassin. "If we lose him again I'll drive and you can jump ahead. I wanna get this job done quick so we can visit Times Square."

"You know, for a real New Yorker, you seem to want to go to a lot of tourist stops." Five commented, a small smirk spreading on his face as he looked back out at the traffic in front of them.

She punched his arm before crossing her own in frustration. "It's not that I want to go to the tourist stops, I want to see how much things have changed." she explained. "My friends and I used to walk to Times Square every other weekend."

"A lot different than how I grew up." Five commented. "Going to the donut shop was the most exciting part of the week."

"Being an actual superhero wasn't the exciting part?"

"Quite the opposite, actually." He told her.

Martha was clearly surprised but didn't say much else, instead reaching for the car radio and flipping through the stations until she picked one that she liked. She propped her feet up on the dashboard and quietly sang the song playing to herself. It was inhuman how happy she was. Sitting in the middle of New York City traffic while their target was easily getting away would be one of the last situations where Five would feel like singing. Yet she seemed like there was nowhere else she'd rather be. Knowing her there was no place else she'd rather be.

When they first heard the sound of sirens behind them neither one thought they were meant for them. But the closer the trooper got to them the more unsure they became.

"Maybe we should pull over." Martha suggested.

Five followed her suggestion but shook his head while he turned the wheel. "We haven't done anything wrong."

"Maybe the tail lights out."

He had a feeling that wasn't the case.

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

Five woke up just as he had every morning since they started staying in the Greenwich apartment; the sun shining directly into his eye. He let out a quiet groan and rolled over onto his side so the glare wasn't as bad. He was used to having weird dreams, that had been happening for years. And he as used to dreams about Martha, she appeared in his subconscious more than he cared to admit. He just wasn't used to them bringing so realistic or including his siblings.

When his eyes eventually started to open they went wide at the sight of someone that was _definitely_ not Luther lying beside him. Five quickly sat upright and stared down at the sleeping Martha by his side. Her hair was much longer than it had been years ago and, up close, he spotted a small scar below her eyebrow that he didn't remember being there. Slowly and tentatively he reached out and brushed her hair behind her ear so he could see her face better. She was real. She was there.

Yet another thing Five hated about being stuck in his 13 year old self were the raging hormones he'd already had to deal with once. The urge to touch her, to kiss her, was almost unbearable. The night before, while they'd been lying facing each other waiting for sleep, it had taken all his self control to keep himself from pulling her into his arms and never letting go. Five was far from a romantic but there was a side of him that existed solely in Martha's presence. A side of him that almost wished he'd been born normal so they could be normal together.

But the chances of them meeting had that been the case were incredibly slim. After all Five had been born in Ontario while Martha was born in Manhattan almost 30 years earlier. At least that's what he remembered her telling him. Neither of them spoke much about childhood.

Five quickly retracted his hand when Martha stirred in her sleep, afraid that he had woken her up. After a few seconds passed and she was still sleeping he decided to get up and get some coffee before he really woke her up. She clearly needed the rest.

He slid out of the bed and wandered out to the kitchen, still dressed in his pajamas, only to find Klaus and a solidified Ben sitting at the table already. Five still got the sensation that he was hallucinating Ben, much older than he was when he died, and he wondered if he would ever get used to the newly discovered layer of Klaus' abilities. He also wondered if that was how his siblings felt when he returned from the future.

"Sleep well Number Five?" Klaus asked between bites of scrambled eggs.

Five quickly turned his back to his brothers and grabbed a mug from the counter above him. "Slept fine, thanks." He said flatly. "Not sure you did, though. You might have been too busy being nosy."

Klaus hissed through his teeth while Ben snickered. "You wounded me, Five." He said dramatically. "I try to be nice and ask how you're doing and you snap at me? Those years in the apocalypse haven't left you the nice young man that I remember."

He rolled his eyes and faced Klaus once again. "I know you get off on meddling in people's business but is it alright with you if I have just a few things in my life that are private?"

"One of those things being your girlfriend?"

Five shook his head. "Martha isn't my girlfriend."

"Well maybe you should make her your girlfriend before the next time you assault her with your eyes."

He set his mug down with a small but angry _thud_. "My personal relationship with Martha is none of your concern. Your concern, and everyone else's, should be stopping the apocalypse."

Klaus looked over at Ben for advice but he seemed to be busy enjoying the show. "Apocalypse shmocalypse. I'm trying to help you, Five."

"I don't need your help."

"Oh, I think you do." Klaus said with a laugh. "Because, from what I remember, you have no clue how to talk to a woman."

Five rolled his eyes again. "I know how to talk to Martha."

"You know how to talk to her as your partner." Klaus agreed, crossing his legs and resting his hands on his knee. "But do you know how to talk to her as your lover?"

"I'm officially done with this conversation." Five announced, pushing himself off the counter and grabbing his mug. "Stay out of my business, Klaus." He called back as he escaped the kitchen.

He shut the door behind him when he made it to his shared room and turned to find Martha sitting up in the bed. She had bedhead and had yet to rub the sleep out of her face. Klaus' words echoed in his mind and he struggled to keep a straight face.

A halfhearted looking smirk appeared on her face. "Were you talking about me?"

"Yes." He admitted, coming over and sitting on the edge of the bed next to her. "Klaus doesn't know how to mind his business. He's gotten some ideas into his head about you."

"Only him?" Martha asked.

"Probably all of them."

Martha shrugged and leaned against the headboard behind him. "I've never been one to care much about what people think of me."

She never had been.

"I only really care about what you think." Martha confessed.

"You know what I think about you."

"Do I?"

"Well it hasn't changed much."

She looked down at her hands. She still had a bad habit of picking at her cuticles when she got nervous despite how many times she had gone too far and made herself bleed. "Even if I've changed?"

Five nodded. "Of course." He said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Because it was. "You're still Martha. You're still my partner."

Her cheeks flushed ever so slightly and she bumped her knee against his leg. "You sure your ability isn't mind reading?" she asked him, "Because you seem to always know exactly what to say."

"I think you're the only one who thinks so." He said, nodding his head in the direction of the door. "They seem to think I'm insensitive and harsh."

"Oh, they're absolutely right."

He gave her a lightly shove.

"I'm sorry Five but it's true." She told him, sitting up again and turning to face him. "I know they're your family, and things are very complicated, but they're just as much on your side as I am. They care about you, and they want to help you. You just don't like the way they show it."

"You're right, I don't."

"Well maybe they don't like the way that you show it, either."

Five stared at her for a moment before standing up and walking over to the dresser, picking out a change of clothes. "I forgot how annoyingly well you know me." He muttered before heading out to the bathroom to get dressed.

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

"Are you _sure_ you don't want me to come with you?" Five asked for what could have easily been the millionth time.

Martha looked up from the strap of her heels she was trying to clasp. "I'll be _fine_, Five." She insisted, standing up once her shoes were on. "It's just clothing shopping."

"Nothing is ever just what it seems with my family."

She playfully rolled her eyes at him and headed out to the living room, Five following right behind her. "You have to stay back and work on the briefcase, remember?"

"That can wait." He argued.

She let out a laugh. "It definitely can't." Martha said, turning to face him while the rest of the siblings watched. "Especially if you're putting it off to a shopping trip."

"That's not why I'm putting it off."

Martha suddenly seemed very aware of their audience and, for a moment, was unsure of what to say. "This is more important." She eventually replied. "I'll bring you back a scone and a coffee."

"If they have a-"

"Raspberry, I know." She turned towards Allison and Vanya. "Ready?"

The sisters nodded, getting up from their seats and heading to the door with Martha following close behind. Just before she shut the door Allison called over her shoulder "We'll take good care of her, Five!"

Five wasn't sure he believed that, but he chose not to say anything and instead brought the briefcase into the kitchen to get to work.

The walk to the shopping center was short and the weather was nice. A little warm for a sweater, both Allison and Vanya thought to themselves, but they figured there hadn't been room in the briefcase for a change of clothes. They were about halfway to the shops when the questions started.

"You and Five seem very close." Allison commented. "How long were you together?"

"We were partners for about 20 years." Martha answered. Both sisters noticed she chose not to use the same choice of words as Allison.

She whistled. "That's a long time." She said, "More time than he spent with us. I'm surprised he hasn't mentioned you to us since he's been back."

Martha shrugged her shoulders, seemingly unphased by the fact. "Maybe there's just not much to say."

"Maybe there's too much to say," Vanya suggested, "and he just doesn't know where to begin."

"That could be it." Martha agreed. "We have a lot of stories."

"Like what?"

She fell silent as she thought back on all the years worth of memories she had to choose from. Allison and Vanya glanced at each other, wondering what kind of things their brother had been up to when they'd thought he might be dead.

"There was one night." She eventually began. "New York City in the 20's. We'd just finished a job and decided to go to a speakeasy afterwards before getting our next assignment. We danced a lot, and drank a _lot_, an then the club got raided. We got arrested and he had to jump us out of the car. Then we wandered around Central Park for about an hour trying to find something to pick the locks of our handcuffs. And I passed out on a bench so he had to carry me close enough to our hotel to jump."

"He didn't leave you there?"

Martha let out a laugh, "What? No, of course not."

"It just seems like something too gentlemanly for Five to do." Vanya explained. "Once he tripped Klaus down the stairs because he dripped his bloody nose on him."

She winced. "That definitely sounds like him at work." Martha admitted. "But once it was the two of us he was different."

"Different how?"

Martha shrugged her shoulders. "Gentler, I suppose."

They made it to a small local boutique filled with clothes Allison had grown up reading about in magazines. It was easy for the two sisters to remember that they were in the past, a time when they were only 8 years old across the ocean. But Martha didn't bat an eye as she walked into the store and walked right over to the collection of plaid pants and tube tops. She picked out a couple of shorts and pants but both girls noticed she only chose long sleeve shirts. The weather definitely wasn't fitting for a day at the beach, but it was the time of year that made it easy to get hot from layering up.

"Aren't you gonna get hot?" Vanya asked after the 4th long sleeve Martha draped across her arm. "We don't want you getting heat exhaustion in the middle of all this."

Martha laughed but shook her head. "I'll be fine." She assured her. "I always wear long sleeves."

"Do you have some kind of embarrassing tattoo?" Allison joked.

"Something like that."

"So you were a hitman too?" Vanya asked, keeping her voice low so anyone who happened to be passing by wouldn't hear. "You guys did that together?"

She nodded her head. "It's an interesting thing, killing people." Martha replied, keeping her voice just as low. "No one ever thinks they have it in them do it, but everyone does. And it's just like every other unpleasant necessity; you get used to it the more you do it."

"How many people have you killed?" Allison whispered.

"That's like asking how old I am." She said with a laugh. "Who's to say what the exact number is?"

"How old are you, generally?"

"175 was the last birthday I celebrated." She said as if it were perfectly normal. "Birthdays get quite boring after so long."

They both gaped at her with their mouths hanging open. "You're almost _200_ years old? You look so young."

"I've been 17 ever since I joined the commission." She explained to them. "This is my physical peak. Most people choose not to age, so they stay in the state that they're the healthiest. If my body ages anymore I'll start to develop scoliosis, so they kept me the same age I was when I joined them."

"You've been a hitman since you were 17?"

She laughed again. "No, no, I started at a desk job and worked my way up to that." Martha said, heading over to the cashier to buy her clothes. "They normally wouldn't take on someone so young, but they'd hired my mother and offered me a position so we could be together."

"Where else did you work in the commission?" Vanya asked her as Martha grabbed her shopping bags and headed for the door. "You must have had some kind of involvement in the experiments, you know so much about them."

But Martha shook her head. "I'm just nosy and stubborn. I knew it was going on, and I knew the information would help all of you, so I stuck my nose where it didn't belong."

"You must have been some hell of a fly on the wall."

Martha simply nodded before ducking into a coffee shop on the way back.

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

Five heard the footsteps of his brothers walking into the kitchen behind him but he didn't even bother looking up. The table in front of him was covered in every possible tool he could find in the apartment that might help. His head was stuck inside the open suitcase while he tried to figure out a way to disable any kind of location device. But to disable it he first had to find it and Five wasn't quite sure what to look for. Three pairs of eyes on the back of his head certainly didn't make it any easier.

"If you're not here to help me than I suggest leaving the room." Five said, twirling a screwdriver in his hand.

None of them turned away. In fact Diego walked over and sat in the chair across from him. "We need to talk to you about something."

"Three guesses what it's about." Klaus mumbled just loud enough for everyone to hear.

Five looked back down at the briefcase and shook his head. "I'm not doing this." He said to them. "The fate of the world is in our hands, why don't any of you understand that?"

"We understand, Five." Luther reasoned. "And we're gonna do everything we can."

"But we need to know who the hell this chick is." Diego continued. "We're not gonna let you put us as risk just because you think she's hot."

He pointed the screwdriver at his brother. "Watch your mouth or I'll put this right through your hand." Five said before returning to his work. "And Martha's not a risk. She's an asset. You heard what she said, she knows more about the commission than I do. We need that intel."

"And you believe her?" Diego asked.

"Why wouldn't I?" He paused from his work once more and glanced at his brothers. "Look, I know I wasn't there when you all got some sense of family, but I just don't have it. And I've know Martha longer than any of you have been alive. I know I can trust her with my life because I already have."

"So then you get to make the decision for us to do the same for us?" Diego asked.

"Honestly, I don't care how long it takes for you to trust her." Five said. "But I know you all will."

Luther cleared his throat quietly. "Look, Five, we know she's important to you. But you haven't seen her in a _really_ long time. People change. Don't you think it's possible she's not the same person she was before."

He would never admit it out loud but he had. Something was certainly different about Martha. Though she hadn't aged a day she somehow seemed older. Sadder. The years they spent apart had been a burden to her and he had no clue why. It irritated him that Five was so out of the loop on her life, both the good and the bad. There had once been a time where he knew what she had done every minute in a given day. Now he couldn't even get her to tell him why she all of a sudden had such a sadness in her eyes.

When he didn't give up the information they wanted Diego got irritated and Klaus got bored and they both eventually left. Once it was just the two of them Luther took the seat Diego left empty. Five kept his eyes fixed on the work in front of him, refusing to meet the unwavering gaze of his much larger sibling.

"It's nothing against her personally." Luther said to him. "We just can't risk any kind of sabotage right now."

Five knew that. He just wished they would listen to him.

"There's something between you two. I can tell."

"If you're gonna imply that she's my girlfriend then save it." Five muttered. "I already got them from Klaus this morning."

Luther shook his head. "That's not what I think. I think it's something much more."

Five faltered for a moment, unsure how to reply. Maybe someone did understand. He just didn't expect it to be Luther.

"Despite my wide vocabulary I don't know a single word to describe it." He said. "Martha knows me better than I know myself. Which is really saying something since I had just myself for a very long time."

"She's special to you."

"She's not special to _me_. She's special to everyone." Five looked back down at the briefcase, though his focus was now somewhere else. "She's annoyingly kindhearted. I treated her like shit for the first month I knew her and she was still happy to see me every morning."

"Why?"

"I think she knew I needed someone like her." he mused. "Someone to love me when I forgot how to love." He looked up for a moment. "Not romantically."

"I understand."

"Do you?"

"I don't have to relate to understand."

From the kitchen they could hear the door open followed by the sound of the girls voices filling the apartment. Five quickly dropped his tools and jumped to his feet, eager to see that Martha had returned safely. He doubted, after thinking she was dead for so long, that letting her out of his sight would be easy.

Just as he reached the doorway he hesitated, turning halfway back to face Luther. "Don't tell her I said any of that." He requested, his voice not quite as stern as it had sounded before.

Luther smiled at him. "Your secret is safe with me."

Five offered him a fraction of the same expression in return before turning and rushing to see the very person he had been talking about.


	4. Chapter 3: This is Training

Okay wow wow wow this story has blown up faster than anything I've ever written and I really want to thank everyone who's read and enjoyed this story. It really warms my heart that people take more than 2 minutes out of their day to read something I've written. Especially since in so many ways this story is so different for me. Honestly I was expecting it to flop. So, seriously, thank you to you all and I hope you enjoy :)

* * *

_J__une 17__th__ 1963, Champ de Mars, Paris_

The view from the Eiffel Tower was breathtaking. After all the things, good and bad, that Five had seen it took a lot to truly make him speechless. The view of Paris from the top of the tower in the evening, with streetlights looking like fireflies, was definitely one of them. He looked across the table at Martha, the glow from the setting sun casting shadows across her face, and noticed that she too had her eyes glued on the view. Only she didn't look amazed. She looked frightened.

Five could count the number of times he had seen Martha scared on two hands. She was good at her job and a kindhearted person despite the ruthless killer that lived inside her. Even when she was afraid she was an expert at not showing it. But looking out at one of the most famous views in the world she looked more frightened than she had when a mafia boss had a gun to her head on their last mission.

He reached across the table and wrapped his hand around hers, getting her attention and startling her slightly. Her eyes, painted in eyeliner and wide with fear, softened slightly when she looked over at him. "You look really nice." He told her, both to make her smile and to distract her.

Five watched the blush rise to her cheeks before she looked down at the table. "Stop." She mumbled halfheartedly.

"Why?" he asked her. "It's true."

Martha simply shrugged and reached behind her, pulling their polaroid camera out of her purse. "Why don't you take a picture of the view?" she asked him, putting the camera in his hands.

He took it and stood up, quickly flagging down a passing by waitress. "Excusez-moi, would you mind taking a picture of us by the window?"

Five was thankful that she understood English since French wasn't his best language. She took the camera from him and Martha pushed her chair out, mumbling to him "you know I hate getting my picture taken" as they walked across the room.

They stood in front of the window, his arm habitually wrapping around her waist. Five saw her nervously glance over her shoulder to the drop down to the ground, a crease setting in her brows. He pulled her closer to him, gently squeezing her waist. "You okay?" he whispered.

"Couldn't be better," she replied sarcastically, "only 3 feet away from certain death."

As dark as her joke may have been Five couldn't help but laugh. It was the perfect comment, two hitmen joking about death. They laughed harder than they maybe should have but they didn't particularly care. They were still laughing when a bright flash went off and when they looked forward at the waitress a picture was printing.

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

While the Umbrella Academy ate their lunch spread out in the living room Martha came out from her shared bedroom with a piece of paper easily as tall as her and a few thumb tacks. She removed a few paintings off the wall and replaced them with the paper, everyone in the room watching her silently. The more time they spent with her the more they understood why her and Five got along so well. They were both stubborn, motivated, and strange. They even got the same look on their face when they got an idea into their head.

Klaus was eventually the one to voice the question on all of their minds. "What's all this?"

Martha stuck the last tack into the wall and turned to face them. "This is training." She said simply. "You can learn everything there is to know about the academy and still walk in blind if you don't know anything about the experiments. They've been trained and modified to be the perfect weapon against you."

"How many are there?" Vanya asked.

"Three." Martha pulled a market out of her pocket and turned back towards the paper to begin writing. "There were five, but two are gone now."

"What happened to them?"

"They pushed Adam with his special jumps too much and he disappeared." She said.

"And the other one?"

Martha hesitated for a moment. "She escaped."

Five raised an eyebrow. "And they haven't found her?"

"Not yet, no."

She wrote three names on the piece of paper and underlined them. Viktor, Daniel, and Nicoli. "We'll start with Viktor. He's the least of a threat."

"Viktor is designed to face Luther and Diego. All of them have been given steroids to make them stronger but Viktor is a whole different story. He can lift 10,000 pounds without breaking a sweat, and all of his senses are incredibly heightened. His accuracy isn't necessarily at the level Diego's is but his eyesight is comparative to a bird of prey's."

"Like an Eagle?"

"More like an owl." Martha said. "Viktor's number 1 weakness is his emotions. He's empathetic and doesn't like hurting people. He will, but he doesn't like it. The best way to beat him is to talk to him before he gets the chance to attack. Tell him about your dad and all the things he made you do when you were young, his empathy is even stronger when he can relate. He's the only one I'd say we have a chance of verbally reasoning with."

Underneath Viktor's name she jotted down a summary of what she had just said about him. The Umbrella Academy had always thought they were some of the most powerful people that existed. They were slowly beginning to question how true that was.

"Daniel isn't quite as physically strong, but his mind is powerful." She said, more specifically to Klaus. "He's also a clairvoyant, and he can solidify spirits. But he has control over them, which is what you need to work on. You need to learn how to overpower their free will."

Klaus hesitated, glancing at an empty space that everyone assumed Ben occupied. "Isn't that kind of morbid?" he asked. "Bringing them back and making them do my dirty work just to send them back."

"You can't have morals when fighting against an enemy that has none."

It was true. It was a fact that Five had known for the majority of his 58 years of life. But his siblings were still concerned with doing the right thing. What Martha had said sat heavy with them and she and Five exchanged a look, both remembering the things they had done. Things that might make someone think they were a monster. They'd learned how to shut off their emotions when they were out in the field. Martha had always excelled at turning them back on once a job was over but it appeared she had lost some of that skill.

She let out a sigh and leaned against the wall next to the paper. "I know that all of this is the type of thing that takes a while to all set in. But unfortunately, we don't have the time." She said to them, spinning the marker between her fingers. "You all still have every quality that makes you human, which is your greatest strength and greatest weakness all at once. They can use it against you, but you can use it against them."

"If you're such an expert on this why don't you just face them yourself?" Diego asked, hardly even paying attention to the conversation.

"Diego." Five warned.

"And how do you even know all of this?" he continued as if he hadn't been interrupted. "You have to have had more involvement than you're letting on. How do we know you weren't the one in charge of all this and this is how you're clearing your conscious."

"Are you the biggest idiot ion the face of the earth?" Five asked, pushing himself to his feet. "The fate of the world rests entirely on our hands. The perfect ally shows up at our doorstep, with _all_ the information we need to beat them, and you're worried about how she knows what she knows?"

Diego turned to face him, not intimidated in the slightest. "No, actually, what I'm worried about is your judgement being clouded when we actually need you."

Five scoffed. "Clouded judgement." He muttered. "Coming from you that's rich."

"What exactly does that mean?"

"It means that we all thought Mom killed Dad and you were worried about her _feelings_. She's a robot. She doesn't have any!"

Diego jumped up from his seat, instinctively pulling a knife out and pointing it at his younger brother's face. "Watch your mouth, she's still your mother."

Martha stepped in, wrapping her hand around the blade and pulling it from Diego's grip without flinching. Allison and Vanya gasped in surprise when they watched her do it and once she had control of the knife she looked over at them. "It's just a little cut, it's no big deal."

Five huffed and took the knife from her, placing it on the table. Both the blade and her hand were quickly being coated in blood. "You need to stop doing stuff like that." He said to her. "We have to sew this up."

"Not until we're done." She said, backing away from him towards the paper again.

He jumped so he was next to her, holding her arm and turning her to face him. "We'll finish this _after_ you clean yourself up." He said sternly.

The two partners stared at each other, neither one willing to back down. They were used to Five's stubbornness and how set in his ways he was. But they weren't used to someone fighting back against him with the same persistence. They were just beginning to wonder if either of them would ever back down when Martha let out a sigh and gently removed her arm from his grip.

"Fine." She said quietly, tucking the marker back into her pocket. "I'll be right back."

She turned and headed out of the room, leaving a heavy silence in her wake. Five returned to his spot on the couch next to Vanya and practically deflated. He was convinced that she liked doing things to scare him. He'd thought she was dead for the longest time and seeing her slice her hand open made his heart stop.

The quiet tension in the air was all too much for Klaus so he wordlessly stood up from his armchair and wandered out of the room. He was about to pass by Martha and Five's shared room and head to the kitchen when he noticed her leaning against the dresser wrapping up her hand, her sweatshirt on the floor beside her. Klaus watched her while she'd yet to notice him. He imagined he knew how she was feeling, an outsider in a group that didn't seem to want her there. That took out their frustrations on her. Normally he would have walked right by and minded her business but he felt as if he had to say something.

"Hey," he began, standing in the doorway, "don't mind Diego. He's too macho to admit that we need your help."

Martha laughed quietly to herself as she finished wrapping her hand, setting the bandages on the desk behind her. "You might be the only one who thinks so."

But Klaus was no longer listening. With her only in a tank top he was able to see what her sleeves had been covering up. He closed the door over behind him and went over to her, but before he reached her she followed his gaze and folded her arms to hide them.

"Klaus," she said, her voice full of fear. "I can explain."

"No, no, no need to explain." Klaus said as he approached her. "I've been on drugs for almost 10 years, I know what collapsed veins look like."

Martha stared at him, seemingly stunned for a moment. She looked down at her arms and shook her head. "Klaus, no, I think-"

He held his hands up. "You don't need to say anything. Now, I know you're probably embarrassed, but I'll be here for you. I got sober, you can too."

She let out a laugh. "Excuse me?"

"I'm guessing you haven't told Five yet." Klaus continued. "I don't blame you. He's breathing down your neck enough as it is. But this is important, Martha, you have to tell him."

"Klaus!" she exclaimed, grabbing hold of both his arms. He could already tell she was much stronger than she appeared to be. "It's not drugs. God, you have no idea how much I wish it was drugs."

He blinked at her a few times while his mind processed what she said. "Oh, okay. Well what is it?"

A long, deflated sigh escaped her. "You have to promise not to tell Five."

"I promise." He lied.

"The reason I know so much about what's going on at the commission…" she released her grip on him and let her hands drop down to her sides. "They experimented on me. Gave me steroids and genetic modifiers. That's why my veins are collapsed, not drugs."

"Holy shit." Klaus breathed, reaching behind him and fully shutting the door. When he returned to her side he put a hand on her shoulder. "Why didn't you tell us?"

Martha shook her head. "I didn't want all of you to know I was a freak."

Klaus couldn't help but laugh. "You were afraid to tell a bunch of freaks that you were one of us?"

"It's different." She insisted. "You guys were born this way, you're real life superheroes. I'm just some modern-day Frankenstein."

"You know some people would argue he's not the real monster."

She laughed quietly and wiped at her nose. "Even if I didn't care I still wouldn't have said anything. Five has way too much on his mind. You all do. I know if I told him he would be too worried on me to focus on something that's actually important."

"Maybe." Klaus agreed, "But you guys are really close, and he's already worried about you. If you don't tell him now it's only a matter of time before he figures out something wrong."

"You're right." Martha said, "But I would rather wait until then."

Klaus could feel Ben's eyes on the back of his head, itching to interject but knowing he couldn't. They had to save the strength of solidifying him for more important occasions. Trying to give advice was not one of those occasions. "It's up to you, Martha my dear." Klaus said. "But if you ask me I'd say you should tell him."

"And I will." She assured him, "Once he has nothing better to worry about." Martha sighed and crossed her arms under her chest. "I'll be out in a second, okay? Telling you guys what you're up against is way more important."

"Yeah, yeah, just take your time."

Klaus closed the door behind him and hurried out to the kitchen where Ben was already sitting there waiting for him. His poker face dropped almost as soon as he was out of Martha's sight, an expression of panic taking its place. It was obvious that there were things she was keeping close to the chest. But out of the infinite possibilities of things it could have been he definitely was not expecting her to drop such a bomb. He paced the length of the kitchen tugging on his hair while Ben sat at the table, stunned and in shock at what they had both just heard.

"What the hell am I gonna do?" Klaus asked his dead brother. "I can't just pretend like I didn't hear that?"

"Why did you promise you wouldn't say anything?" Ben questioned.

Klaus scoffed. "You think I knew she was gonna say something like that? I thought she was gonna tell me she was dating someone or something like that. Besides, do you think she would have listened if I tried to convince her to say something herself? She's clearly made up her mind."

"Well someone has to say something."

"You think?"

"We can't just do nothing." Ben continued as if he hadn't been interrupted. "It'll get everyone to understand her better. Which she needs since Diego is about two seconds from kicking her out."

He laughed. "Five would never let that happen and you know it."

"Five would never let what happen?"

Klaus whipped around to find his younger, but older, brother standing in the doorway of the kitchen. Everyone was so used to seeing him in his Umbrella Academy uniform that the sight of him dressed in clothes from the 90s was strange. His confused expression only grew when Klaus cast a nervous glance at Ben, who Five was unable to see.

"Five would never let _what_ happen, Klaus?" he repeated, his voice becoming tight and stern.

It was obvious Klaus was backed into a corner and had no way out. Especially not with Five, the most persistent of the group. He held his hands up and tried to smile. "Hey, hey, relax brother." Klaus said to him. "I've been sworn to secrecy so I can't say very much."

"Well what _can_ you say?"

"What I can say is… you just really need to talk to your girl."

Five didn't even bother snapping at Klaus for his teasing as a look of panic crossed his face. "Why? What's wrong? Is she okay?"

"That's debatable." He admitted. "She has something she needs to tell you but she doesn't _want_ to tell you."

"And that would be?"

Klaus laughed. "Oh no, I'm not getting involved any more than I already am. You gotta ask her yourself."

Five huffed in frustration before turning on his heels and heading straight into their shared bedroom. Martha was leaning against the wall looking at the rain falling and filling up puddles in every pothole. He watched her for a moment, choosing to enjoy the last few moments of blissful ignorance where he could pretend everything was fine.

The sound of him closing the door behind him made her look up. A small smile spread on her face and she held up her bandaged hand. "All taken care of, see?"

Five nodded and crossed the room, leaning against the opposite side of the window. "Are you okay, Martha?"

She shook her head. "It was just a little cut. You know I've had worse-"

"That's not what I meant." Five clarified. "You're different, Martha. Sadder. Something happened and you don't want to tell me. Why?"

"Damnit Klaus." She mumbled to herself. She sighed through her nose and looked back out at the dreary view of London. "It's just not the time. You can't waste all your worry on me."

"I'm probably worrying more now wondering what it is than I would if you told me." Five argued.

"You wouldn't say that if you knew what it was."

"So then _tell_ me." Five practically begged. "You're my partner, Martha. I need you to tell me what's going on because I need to know how to help you."

Martha groaned and headed over to the bed, Five following close behind and sitting facing her. "You have to _promise_ me you won't freak out when I tell you."

"I won't."

"Seriously, Five."

"I just said I wouldn't."

She sighed and wrapped her hands around his, pulling it into her lap. "After they said we couldn't work together they knew we both couldn't work in the field anymore. And I, obviously, have a longer track record of breaking protocol. They told me they wanted me to work in a new department.

"I didn't want you to know why I know so much of what's going on because I didn't want you to thin I was a threat. I pretended like I was on their side, like I was willing to do anything to stop you like they wanted me to, but I was just biding my time. They drugged me until all my veins collapsed and turned me into some kind of human super weapon, and I let them because I knew they were turning me into their perfect opponent."

Five stared at her, completely and utterly speechless. It wasn't news to him that the commission could be cold hearted. In their line of work they had to be. He had to be. Even Martha, the kindest person he knew, had to learn how to turn of that part of her personality when she got a gun in her hand.

But _human experimentation_? With steroids and genetic modifiers? Even Reginald Hargreaves hadn't been that cruel.

His fingers wrapped around the hem of her sleeve and he slowly pushed it up her arm. He expected her to protest but Martha stayed quiet, her eyes not daring to look anywhere near him. As soon as he pushed her sleeve up enough his stomach lurched and threatened to make him sick. Her veins halfway her arm were so dark they were practically black and the inside of her elbows were freckled with scarred needle marks.

"Five-"

"They can't do this to you."

"This is why I didn't want to tell you." She said, her voice soft in the way it always was when he got upset. "Because it doesn't matter how many times I tell you I'm fine, I know you won't believe me."

He let out a laugh that lacked any kind of humor. "You're right, I don't believe you." He said. "For fuck's sake, Martha, look what they did to you! You expect me to just act like it didn't happen."

She yanked her sleeve down. "Yes, I do. We're stopping the apocalypse, nothing else matters. Especially not my emotional wellbeing."

Five scoffed. "Of course it matters."

"In the grand scheme of things it really doesn't."

"Well it matters to me!" he shouted. Not really at her, at an organization that couldn't hear him and wouldn't have cared anyway. He looked over at her, the pain in her face more clear than it had been since she first arrived. Five jumped to his feet and stormed out of the room, knowing there was no point in arguing with her anymore. She wouldn't listen.

Her reflexes were as quick as ever. She was up and perusing him before he even reached the door. "Where are you going, Five?"

"The commission." He called back over his shoulder.

He heard her laugh. "I must have heard you wrong because it _really_ sounded like you said you were going to the commission while you're at the top of their hit list."

Their raised voices caught everyone's attention before they reached the living room. Klaus and Ben exchanged a glance, not needing three guesses as to what they were arguing about. By the time Five marched over to the briefcase sitting on a table by the door everyone was silently watching their argument unfold.

"You heard me right." He said to her from across the room. "Screw the plan, screw the commission, screw the apocalypse!"

"Five-"

"I mean this in the nicest way, Martha, I really do, but you're an idiot if you think any of this is okay."

"_Five_-"

"_30 years_ they did that to you." He continued, reaching for the latch of the briefcase. "They can't just get away with that."

"_Stop_!"

As soon as the word left her lips Five turned into a human statue, frozen in place with his finger hooked under the latch. Martha hurried over to him while the entire room stared at her. Klaus and Ben were the only ones who knew even a fraction of what she'd been hiding and even they weren't expecting _that_.

Once she reached him Martha slipped the briefcase from his frozen grip and set it down on the floor behind her. Only Diego and Vanya were positioned just right to see the look of panic and crushing guilt on her face. She put both her hands on Five's cheeks, handling the young killer with the same care one would for a newborn animal.

"I'm gonna let go of you." She said, her voice quiet but stern. "And then we're gonna relax and talk about this _reasonably_, without storming out. Okay?"

After a moment or two Five deflated as he seemed to come back to life, though he was still too stunned to do or say much. Martha retracted her hands and visibly withdrew into herself. It felt like forever that they were all silent, no one having a clue to say.

Allison stood up and walked over to them, taking on the responsibility of speaking first. "The girl that ran away, that's you isn't it?" she asked. "That's how you know so much about what's going on, because they did it to you."

Martha didn't say anything.

"You should have said something." Luther said. "We could have helped."

She scoffed, "Like that would have helped me gain your trust." She said, purposely not looking at Diego. "Besides, there's nothing to help with. What's done is done."

"There's other ways to help." Vanya chimed in. "Even if we can't do anything to change what happened we can still be there for you and help you deal with it."

Martha hesitated, clearly not quite sure what to do with this information. Her bottom lip did a fraction of a tremble that made Five worry she might cry. But her hardened demeanor returned and she shook her head. "I appreciate that. Really, I do." She eventually said. "But we have important work to do. I still haven't gone over Nicoli."

Five's lips straightened into a tight line as he resisted the urge to argue that it could wait until later. H returned to the spot next to Vanya on the couch and put his hands over his eyes while Martha resumed her position at the front of her room. She, and how much he cared about her, was going to be the death of him.


	5. Chapter 4: Reckless

Okay wow this story is low key blowing up. I'm genuinely surprised because my only story more "successful" than this one was a serious project from me and this is purely just for fun. Wow. Thank you. I hope you enjoy this update!

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_Sydney, Australia, April 25__th__ 1958_

Five's new partner was much too enthusiastic for their first mission.

He wasn't there to make friends. He wasn't there to have fun. He was there to get his job done until he found a way to stop the apocalypse. It would take a long time and he knew it. He was in it for the long haul and he had learned how to accept it.

But watching a parade standing on the sidewalk next to Martha in the blistering heat was especially miserable.

She seemed to find a certain charm in the situation they were in. She'd dressed like she was on the cover of a magazine on sale in the shop they stood in front of, going against the commission's suggested uniform. She accepted any food or trinket offered by a passersby. She laughed and cheered along with the rest of the crowd as if she were one of the locals. Did she forget that they were there to kill someone?

Five was pulled from his train of thought when he heard his partner say his name. He looked down at her, much taller than her in his older body, and saw her holding out a bag of popcorn in a silent offer. Every day during training he'd thought she couldn't get stranger. And every day she proved him wrong.

"No thanks." He said flatly, looking back out at the parade in front of him.

In his peripheral vision he saw her shrug her shoulders before reaching into the bag. "You know, Five," she said after she finished chewing, "just because we're here on business doesn't mean we can't have a little fun."

"That's exactly what it means, actually." He replied.

She shook her head to herself. "Sounds like you belong at a desk." She mumbled to herself.

Five chose not to reply and instead planned on sending in for a new partner once they were done with their mission. He'd known that they were clashing personalities the second they'd been put in the same training class. She was too carefree and reckless for their line of work. The type of person that would be a full-time artist living in a dirty studio apartment, yet still somehow happy because she was following her dreams. The type of person that would pick up a dropped pacifier for an infant when their mother could easily do it. Martha's heart was too big and her smile too wide and Five worried she was going to get them killed.

Not to say she wasn't good at what she did. The closest he'd gotten to seeing her in action was practicing combat in training. The girl he saw knock a 6ft tall men to the ground wasn't the same girl wearing heart shaped sunglasses beside him. Five was convinced that there were two people living inside her head. One of them was the ideal person to work with. The other was the worst.

He looked down at his watch set to Eastern Australian time. "We don't have to be here much longer, you know."

"If you're so keen on leaving then I'll just meet you back at the hotel." She said without missing a beat.

"I'm not letting you walk back by yourself."

She snorted. "Why? You worried about a poor defenseless girl like me getting jumped?"

Five chose not to reply and instead looked back out at the event in front of him just as a line of men dressed in uniform gripped their riffles and held them up to the sky, shooting out bullets while simultaneously causing roars to erupt from the audience.

His eyes shut momentarily and when they opened again Five was back in the wasteland that he had been his world for more than 5 years. The apocalypse.

But no, that couldn't be. The handler had taken him, saved him, from the fiery future of the human race. Had they changed their mind? Thrown him back into the water like a fish? Could they do that after the contract they'd signed?

Five's breathing became labored and panicked, the hardened shell he had developed since leaving that place crumbling at his feet. He looked around, squeezed his eyes shut, did everything that might wake him up from such a nightmare. But it really seemed like it was stuck.

He shook his head in defiance as he wandered through the rubble. He didn't remember choosing to cry but suddenly his cheeks were wet. Five usually never allowed himself to display such weakness but to hell with that. To hell with it all! There was no one there, not a soul, to see him weep.

Then he was running. Running from the hope that had just been crushed inside him. Running from the burnt bodies that never seemed to end. Running from everything and anyone with the crushing realization that he was just a helpless boy who couldn't do anything to save the world.

His legs quickly grew tired and he practically collapsed on the ground with his back against the remains of a destroyed building. Five pulled his knees close to his chest and hid his head between them. It wasn't often that he indulged self-pity but for once he was truly bitter about his life. He'd grown up reveling in his lifestyle. He was a real-life superhero, something young boys would only ever dream of being. But, for possibly the first time, he detested the fact that he was extraordinary and wished he could be anything but.

"Five!"

A voice made everything in his body stop. It wasn't possible. He was the only one there, all logic said so. The human race was wiped out. He was only there because he'd been thrust forward from the past. No one could survive what he sat in.

"Five?!"

He'd gone mad. That must have been it. It wasn't the long years he'd spent by himself, the sight of his loved one's dead bodies, or even the personification of a mannequin that drove him over the edge. It was the bit of hope inserted in him by the commission being crushed that did him in. Five squeezed his eyes shut and prayed that the voice calling out to him would disappear like the rest of the world had.

"Five? Oh my god."

When he picked his head up he was startled by the sight of Martha, dressed in the type of clothes his mom wore every day, hurrying over to him. He straightened up, startled like an animal ripped from its surroundings, and backed up against the wall as she approached. She wasn't real, none of it was. His mind was playing tricks on him in hopes of breaking him down further.

Martha dropped onto her knees in front of him, instantly soiling the skirt of her baby blue dress in the dirt. But she didn't seem to mind much. She inched closer to him until their legs were touching, going slow so she wouldn't startle him, and reached out for him. Her gentle touch on his cheeks made it easy to forget that she was a trained killer. So was the kindness in her voice when she spoke to him.

"You're okay." She said. Her words were quiet, meant only for him. Once his eyes had met hers she had him locked in and he seemed physically incapable of looking away from her. "You're okay, Five."

She repeated soothing phrases until his breathing returned to a steady pace and he was present minded once again. Once she seemed to conclude that her soothing had worked she let out a sigh and crawled to sit against the wall next to him. She crossed her legs over each other and leaned her head back against the hard brick.

Five's cheeks were flushed bright red and his gaze was fixated on her white flats. He'd never been so mortified in his entire life. Of course he'd had moments of weakness before. He was human, after all. But never, _never_ in his life, had he let himself break down so badly in front of someone else. Especially someone he hardly knew.

And yet, because of how little they knew each other, he was all the more grateful.

"Thanks Martha." He mumbled, too embarrassed to say much more.

She looked over at him, a small smile spreading on her painted lips as she rested her hand on his shoulder. "Don't mention it, partner."

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

Klaus landed with a loud _thud_ on the floor of the living room in the Greenwich apartment. His siblings winced as he collided with the floor and watched with pity as he rolled over onto his stomach and groaned. Martha stood over him and brushed the hairs that had fallen loose from her ponytail out of her face, completely unharmed. That morning she said she wanted to face off against all of them, with the exception of Vanya, just to see where there combat skills were at and how they could improve.

It didn't come as much of a surprise to anyone that Klaus was overpowered quickly.

Martha held her hand out to help him up and pulled him off the ground with ease. "That was good." She said once he was standing again.

"I don't need your pity lies."

She laughed. "They're not lies. You've got no defense, but you have a lot of potential for offense and stealth. That's definitely something you're gonna take advantage of."

Although Klaus didn't seem very convinced he did seem glad to be finished with his turned as he collapsed onto the couch. And though Martha was clearly trying to play off that she was perfectly fine Five could see that she was getting tired.

"Maybe we should take a break." He suggested to her despite the fact it would probably fall on deaf ears.

As expected she shook her head. "After you and Diego take your turn." She replied. "Then I'll take a break."

Diego stood up and stood across the room from her. In the past it was hard to mirror his wardrobe back home yet somehow he'd managed to do an okay job. He seemed much more eager to face off against the young-looking girl than the rest of them. "Let's get this over with, then."

Despite his clear distrust he still had for her Martha didn't exactly seem intimidated by him. Or maybe she'd just gotten better at masking those types of emotions. "Hand to hand combat first, right?" she asked him. "Work up to using your abilities."

Diego rolled his eyes. "Yeah, you said it like a thousand times."

He threw the first punch, which she easily dodged. It was clear he wasn't exactly used to facing an opponent so much smaller than him since his first few blows went straight past her. Diego had a very brutish and aggressive way of fighting, all defense, while Martha escaped each one of his punches with graceful speed. That is until she swung at him.

Her fist connected with his jaw and he was stunned for a fraction of a second before he jumped back into action. Just as before the first few didn't land. But the first to make contact she had attempted to dodge a bit too late. His fist connected with her shoulder and she stumbled back a few steps.

Diego was quick to take advantage of her dropped guard and roundhoused her waist. Though she had urged all of them not to go easy on her the sight of a grown man fighting with a teenager was disturbing.

She stumbled again from the kick and the momentum carried her across the room. Once she recovered she spoke. "Your emotion gives you more power, but it also makes you sloppy. You have to take control."

It sounded like the type of thing their father would have said to him. Her advice was hard hitting but correct. When Diego reached her again Martha blocked his fist with ease before landing a punch directly on his nose. His instincts made him reach up to the wound and left his defenses down. 3 punches, 2 in the stomach and 1 in the face, made him retreat halfway across the room. Martha rubbed her knuckles and didn't seem to notice Diego reaching for one of his knives. No one got the chance to register what he was doing until he released the blade and it glided across the room.

Time seemed to freeze for a moment. Everyone was stunned. Even Diego looked down at his empty hand as if he was confused why the knife was no longer there. Martha reached up and placed her hand against her arm, wincing slightly before pulling away only to find blood coating her palm.

Five exploded.

"She said no knives, you idiot!" he shouted, jumping to his feet and stalking over to his brother. "What the _fuck_ were you thinking? You could have killed her! You're wasting your energy, and your resources, on her when we have an _actual enemy_ to worry about."

The rest of the siblings watched the argument in silence, unsure of what to do or say. Diego was a bit of a loose cannon, this was true, and he often threw a knife or two at the wall just to get someone's attention. But it was rare that he actually hurt someone that was on their side (Luther being the exception). They all knew that he'd been friendly with the police officer that Hazel and ChaCha had killed. But they were beginning to wonder if there was more to the story. It would explain why he was even more moody and closed off than usual.

Five continued to yell at his brother until Martha grabbed him by the shoulders and turned him to face her. She opened her mouth the reason with him but Five spoke before she got the chance. "_Please_ don't say that it's just a scratch and that you're fine because I don't feel like hearing you make excuses for him right now."

She seemed unphased by his ice-cold tone. "That's not what I was going to say." She told him. "What I was going to say is that you should go in the bathroom and cool down for a second before I sew it up. You're going to have to get used to seeing me get hurt and you're going to have to learn how to handle your emotions."

"Martha-"

"I'll be in in a few minutes." She interrupted, knowing that he was only going to continue ranting. "Can you get everything I need out and ready for me please?"

Five blinked at her, visibly struggling to not continue arguing with her. He let out an angry huff before storming out of the room and presumably heading to the bathroom. Once he was gone Martha deflated a bit and brought her hand up to her wound.

Diego attempted to approach her but stopped himself when she looked sharply at him. "Martha I-"

"You'll never be able to control your abilities if you can't control your emotions." She snapped. "All of you. I'm going to hurt your feelings during the process and I expect you to hurt mine." She nodded in the direction of the knife in the wall. "Outbursts like that won't just get you killed. You're used to working by yourself, and that's fine, but we're a team now. Being reckless will affect all of us."

Before he got the chance to reply, or even react, she followed Five to the bathroom down the hall. Luther, who was sitting closest to where the knife has landed, pulled it out of the wall and crossed the room to hand it to Diego? "Are you crazy?" he asked his brother as he took the blade from him. "Pulling shit like that in front of Five? He would have kicked your ass."

"Sorry, alright?" he mumbled, putting the knife away. "I just lost control for a second."

"Obviously." Luther replied. "You don't have to trust her, but you also don't have to be an asshole about it."

One by one they all got up and went into their respective rooms, figuring it was safe to say training had been put on hold, until Vanya and Diego were the only ones left in the room. She had yet to budge from her spot on the couch and it wasn't until they were alone that he noticed she was still there. When he did he let out a sigh. "I don't need you to lecture me too, alright?"

Vanya shook her head. "I wasn't going to."

"But you were gonna say something, right?"

She rested her elbows on her knees, hesitating as she tried to figure out how best to word what she was thinking. "She has a point. We've all been by ourselves for a while. We have to learn how to work together if we're gonna make this work."

Diego rolled his eyes. "I don't need anyone's help. Especially not some kid's help."

"Did you forget that she's 200 years old?"

He had forgotten.

"Look, even if we didn't need her help it's obvious that Five wants her here." Vanya continued.

"What? So we just do anything Five says?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "I want her here too." She said, then added before he got the chance to say she didn't get a vote "And Klaus seems to get along with her pretty well. Allison too. You might be the one outnumbered here."

He wandered over to the window, taking the seat he had been in when he saw that stupid girl for the first time. "Isn't the whole point of trying to be a family not letting just anybody be included?" he asked his sister.

"Maybe." Vanya said. "But right now we're not trying to be a family. We're trying to stop the apocalypse. There'll be all the time in the world for being a family afterwards. Not to sound like her but we have more important things to worry about."

Diego sighed, not wanting to admit that she had a point. Despite everything he'd learned about Vanya the past few weeks it was still hard to shake the feeling he'd felt his whole life; that she was an outsider. The feeling was even harder to shake for her.

In the bathroom down the hall Five had managed to calm down enough to sew up the wound on Martha's arm after cleaning it. They sat on the edge of the bathtub side by side with all the needed materials spread out in front of them on the sink. Her sweatshirt, one sleeve soaked in blood, had been tossed in the garbage can. Despite the fact that he knew what had happened to her she was still obviously self-conscious to only be wearing a tank top. It certainly wasn't the first time they had played doctor with each other and they both had the feeling it wouldn't be the last. As gentle as he tried to be he could still see her clenching her fists in pain.

"I'm almost done, okay?" he said, his eyes returning to his work.

He saw her nod her head. "It's fine. Take your time."

Five couldn't help but roll his eyes at her. "Why do you always do that?"

"Hm?"

"You're obviously not fine, Martha. So why do you keep saying you are?"

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Are you my partner or my therapist?"

"You're hilarious."

Neither of them spoke for a few minutes, Five's gaze fixed on her wound and her gaze fixed on him. As glad as he was that she was there a small part of him wished she wasn't. At least not until he aged a bit more. If he said so himself aging had suited him. And though he wasn't exactly the type of person concerned with physical appearance he had definitely looked a lot better when they worked together. Though they visually were less of a strange pair than they'd been when he was nearing his 50s and she was still 17 he was still bitter about his age regression.

Not that he would mention of it out loud. Not to Martha because he knew she didn't care about that type of thing, and not to his siblings since it would only lead to further questions about what exactly his relationship with her was. Which, even if he wanted to explain, he wouldn't exactly know what to say. It was complicated.

"What are you thinking about?" she asked him, something she used to do whenever it was obvious he had something on his mind.

"You." He answered honestly.

In his peripheral vision he saw her smile. "What about me?"

He shrugged in response.

"You always had a way with words."

"Like you're any better."

Five cut the thread once she was completely sewn up and put a bandage over it. They took turns using the sink to wash the blood off their hands then cleaned up a bit of the mess that had been made. Whoever's apartment they were staying in was in for a hell of a shock when they finally returned.

"I'll go get you something for the pain." Five said. "Then I think you should rest. And I don't want you to argue with me about it."

For once she actually listened to him. Martha nodded and sat down on the toilet seat once he had left the room. Her arm hurt like hell and now that she was alone she allowed it to show in her face. The amount of stress resting on her shoulders was incredible and it was a miracle that, even considering she hadn't aged a day in years, it hadn't started to show in her face.

She briefly debated allowing herself to age a bit more. Maybe it would make people take her more seriously. But then she remembered the scoliosis and gave up on that idea.

"Martha?"

She picked her head up and spotted Five standing in the doorway of the bathroom. His hands were void of any water or pain killers and the expression on his face was strange in an unidentifiable sort of way. "Hey." She said, "You alright?"

"I don't know." He admitted. "I don't feel so great?"

Martha stood up, taking a few steps towards him and asking "What's wrong?"

He opened his mouth to reply but no words came out. Instead a throaty, wet cough came out. She didn't get the chance to ask if he was okay before blood started to trickle from the corner of his lips.

"Five?"

Thick red liquid spurted out as he coughed again and he quickly collapsed to the ground. She didn't remember screaming but by the time she dropped down onto her knees next to him her throat began to burn. She called his name but his eyes were closed and he showed no sign that he heard her. She pulled his unconscious body into her lap, too panicked to call out for help at the 6 other people in the apartment. 60 years she'd longed for and waited to be reunited with him. Was the universe really ripping him away from her again after only a couple of days?

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

Allison was already in the kitchen when Five entered, looking tired and annoyed. He dug through the cabinets both for a glass and a painkiller and she figured she didn't need three guesses to know why'd he'd come in.

"How is she?" Allison asked him.

He shrugged his shoulders, his back to her as he filled the glass up with tap water. "The cut isn't very deep, which is good. Could have been a lot worse."

"That's good."

Five set the glass down on the counter and turned to face his sister. "Do you all really not want her here _that_ badly?" he asked. "She's exactly what we need right now, why don't you guys understand that?"

"I understand it." Allison assured him. "But you know how Diego is. He gets all bent out of shape when he isn't working by himself. He's a control freak. That didn't change while you were gone."

"Clearly."

"I'm glad she's here." She continued. "She clearly knows what she's doing. And it's a nice change to see you be nice to someone."

Five turned his back to her once again when his face began to feel warm.

"You two are a good match. You know, as partners." Allison said. "It takes a hell of a girl to put up with you all by herself for 30 years."

He allowed himself a small smile since she wasn't able to see him. "I suppose so."

A short silence passed between them. It was clear they were all catching onto the fact that he and Martha hadn't been 100% professional 100% of the time. Was there a point in pretending anymore? Maybe if they were honest it would help them to understand her better, allow them to trust her quicker.

Before he could decide whether or not to open up that part of his life to Allison the clear sound of screaming came from down the hall towards the bathroom. They both froze for a moment, wondering briefly what the source was before it happened again.

"_Five?!_"

He darted out of the kitchen, Allison quickly following behind him. In such a small apartment everyone was able to hear Martha's screams and they all jumped up too see what was happening. By the time he made it to the bathroom Klaus was already there trying to calm her down while she was kneeling on the floor.

"Martha calm down." He said, reaching out to her. "What happened?"

As soon as he got close enough she pushed him into the wall with the strength they all expected from Luther. Tears were streaming down her face as she looked down at the floor in front of her and though nothing was there she began to sob.

Five was stunned. He'd never see her so distraught before. He had absolutely no idea what to do to help her, his heart aching at the sight of her sitting on the ground crying.

By the time she looked up again they'd all come to see what happened. Her eyes went wide and she sprang to her feet, turning and throwing open the window behind her. Luther figured out what she was doing first and wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her off the ground to keep her from crawling out the window.

"Get off of me!" she screamed, pounding her fists against his arms. "You're not real, you're not real! Get _off_!" she swung behind her but missed Luther's head, which she was clearly aiming for.

"Diego, _help_."

With both of their strength combined they managed to lower her to the ground and pin both her arms down so she wasn't able to hit them. She struggled against them, attempting to kick them and squirm free, neither working. Five told his other siblings to try to hold her down by her feet so he would be able to get close to her to try to calm her down. Though he had no clue what to do since he'd never in his life seen her like this.

Klaus, Allison, and Vanya managed to pin down both her ankles and Five had to climb over them in the cramped bathroom. He knelt down on the ground next to her but Martha squeezed her eyes shut and turned her head away from him.

"He's not real." She whispered repeatedly, mostly to herself. "He's not really here."

"I am real, Martha." He said to her.

"No you're _not_."

He put his hands on her cheeks and turned her head to face him. Something she'd always done for him whenever he got flashbacks to the apocalypse. She'd called it anchoring. "Martha can you look at me? I need you to look at me for a second."

She shook her head.

"You're safe here with us so I need you to open your eyes." He repeated, calmly yet stern at the same time. How had she managed to do this for him so many times without going crazy?

It took a few seconds but slowly her eyes began to open. Though she'd stopped screaming she was still struggling to get free and she started to cry again when she looked at him.

"Everyone's okay, right? Look, everyone's in here and we're all okay."

She shook her head against his hands. "You- you came in and you were bleeding and then you fell and I thought you were-"

"Martha I'm okay." He insisted.

Her eyes searched him, likely any sign of blood, before moving to the empty spot on the floor. She managed to slip both her arms free before throwing them around his neck and continuing to cry.


	6. Chapter 5: Implanted

Thank you guys for hanging in with me through this crazy story, it might be one of the most out there things I've ever written. And a special thanks to people who know me from my other works and are used to my very fluffy and PG story lines. And I hope you guys continue to enjoy this story as much as I do!

* * *

_Date unknown, the Commission, Doomsday Ward_

Wake up, eat, train, eat, experiment, eat, injections, sleep. It was the routine Martha had lived for just about 10 years. She'd learned to take one day at a time. Thinking about how long she'd been under the control of the commission and wondering how much longer she would be stuck in the same position was a guaranteed way to drive herself mad. So she learned how to cope. How to find joy in the little things.

A keyboard stood against the wall on the other side of her padded room and it was her best friend. Perfecting a chord, having a good dream, getting a good meal. These simple things kept her going. Without them she wouldn't have been able to survive. Which simply wasn't an option. After what her partner had told her not long before they were separated she knew she had to eventually find a way to get out.

But it was hard to remain so positive during the experiments. Or what she called psychological torture.

They wanted her completely under their thumb, willing to do anything they commanded. Including killing their loved ones. According to them it was important to get used to seeing gruesome things. Since the commission was timeless they had insanely advanced technology, including a chip that when inserted into the human body could induce involuntary hallucinations.

It was because of this chip that Martha stood in the middle of her room surrounded by the dead bodies of everyone she'd been close to. The first time she'd seen them she screamed until she passed out from lack of oxygen. Now, 10 years later, she felt hallow as she dragged them all into a pile by the door. She had to look at them, touch then, move them, interact with them somehow for them to disappear. And though she knew they weren't really there her back still hurt from carrying their dead weight.

Because such things were so typical to her it was easy to forget how totally and completely fucked up it was. To her it just seemed inconvenient when she was trying to read a book and everyone she cared about came in and died right in front of her.

She always saved her friends from her school days for last since they were smaller and by then her body was begging her to stop. Martha draped her once best friend Annabelle onto the top of the pile before backing up until she reached her bed and collapsed onto it. She rubbed her eyes with her knuckles despite the blood on her hands, knowing it would disappear once they shut the chip of.

Martha hummed to herself as she stared up at the ceiling, counting the passing minutes and praying it would be over for the night soon. It took a little longer than usual, about 10 minutes, before she heard the creak of her room open. When Martha picked her head up all the bodies were gone and Evelyn stood in their place. Though her expression was forever frozen in a look of mild displeasure she somehow seemed happy. She shut the door behind her and sat down on the stool in front of the keyboard.

"You're getting better." She commented as she crossed her legs over one another.

Martha sat fully up and leaned against the padded wall. "I am?" she asked. She didn't feel like she'd been getting better.

But Evelyn nodded her head. "You're becoming less reactive, more efficient. That's good."

"Exactly what I wished for." She said sarcastically.

Evelyn didn't like when Martha gave her attitude, which was almost exclusively how she communicated those days. She headed back to the door but hesitated before reaching for the handle. "I know we had a rough start, Martha, but I have a lot of faith in you. The others underestimate you. But I think, if you really worked for it, you would could surpass them all. Keep that in mind."

In a matter of seconds she was left alone in her room. Martha wondered if she should be honored or flattered. But instead she wanted to laugh. For the first time in a long time she had _real_ hope that she would be able to join her partner once more and stop the apocalypse.

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

Diego and Klaus sat at the kitchen table, both mentally reliving what had happened in the bathroom not tool long ago. The apartment was silent for the first time since they'd moved in, the only exception being muffled voices behind the door of Martha and Five's room. They were all anxiously awaiting the two to emerge and explain what had just happened.

Out of the two brothers in the kitchen Klaus was the first to break the silence by letting out a long sigh. "You know, she said she wasn't on drugs, but now I'm not so sure."

Diego shook his head. "I don't know what to think." He admitted. "I mean… should we be worried? About her, like, mental stability?"

Klaus shrugged his shoulders. "I'm not." He said. "Maybe she's just as crazy as I am."

Though normally Klaus' dark sense of humor in inappropriate times would have annoyed him Diego was, for once, thankful for it. They were all under an incredible amount of pressure the past two weeks. Leave it to Klaus to crack a joke after what they had just seen.

"You think Five knows she's crazy?" Diego asked, turning to look at him.

Klaus pondered his question for a moment before actually answering. "I don't think so. The look on his face when he came in, he was just as surprised as we were." He crossed his legs. "I have a feeling your theory about her story being BS is wrong."

"Maybe." Diego admitted quietly, not one to easily own up to being wrong.

But after that how could he deny that the girl had been through something? And what she had said? _You're not real_. That was some crazy shit. Diego doubted that she had been such a basket case when she and Five worked together, he wasn't the type of person to put up with stuff like that from someone he didn't know.

"Or maybe," Klaus mused, his tone suddenly less serious than it had previously been, "your little hissy fit before broke her psyche and now she's a total basket case."

"You're hilarious." Diego said sarcastically. "I highly doubt that, if everything she said is true, that a little cut would make her go nuts."

Klaus held his hands up. "You never know."

"You're an idiot."

They both fell silent again, Diego silently second guessing himself. Something he didn't do often. Was he being too hard on her after all? Was it harsh of him to question her legitimacy so much? It was obvious some of what she said was true. Her and Five clearly knew each other, and her combat skills matched his pretty well. Was it wrong of him to trust his suspicion and history of dealing with criminals more than his own brothers' word? He hadn't thought so.

"Wonder what they're talking about." Klaus said, voicing the thought on both their minds.

Only they weren't talking.

Martha lay flat on her stomach with her face in a pillow, too embarrassed to look at Five as she calmed herself down. Almost 10 minutes later her body had stopped shaking with tears but she'd yet to pick her head up. Five struggled to wait patiently for her to relax while he sat leaned against the headboard behind him. Though remaining silent was not one of his strong suits he managed to bite his tongue, reminding himself that he needed to wait until she was ready to speak and that she needed to take her time to reach that point. While he waited for her to speak he ran his fingers through her hair, another tactic he had borrowed from her.

He felt her head turn to face him and when he looked down at her her face was still red and splotchy. Five tucked her hair behind her ear to see her better despite the fact that she clearly didn't want him to.

"You think I'm crazy, don't you?" Martha asked, her voice fearful at what his answer might be.

"I've known you were crazy since I saw you use the strap of your purse to strangle someone."

"That wasn't exactly the answer I was looking for."

"I know it wasn't." Five said. "Are you gonna tell me what just happened?"

"No."

"Martha."

She groaned as she sat upright, crossing both her legs and her arms. "Obviously when they told me what they wanted to train me for I didn't want to. They knew they had to find a way to get me to submit to them. They put some kind of implant in me when I was sleeping that control what I see. Basically involuntary hallucinations."

His stomach rolled over in disgust. "What kind of things did you see?"

"People dying. They told me I had to get used to the sight, especially people I cared about." Martha laughed and shook her head. "I've seen you die a thousand times. I got used to it, which is really sick, but every time I would be alone in my room and I knew it wasn't real. Now I'm here with you, and you came into the bathroom and died and I really thought it was real. Plus, they haven't had to use the implant for a long time so I kind of forgot about it."

"So then why did they use it now?"

"They must know I'm here." She said, "Especially considering what they made me see."

The two partners fell silent as the reality of what she said properly sunk in. It was inevitable that the commission would find out that she was with them in London. But Five thought they had a bit more time, something he'd made the mistake of thinking before. Suddenly her urgency to get everything done had rubbed off on him and he was antsy to get back to work.

But not until she was okay.

"Is it possible that it also has some kind of tracking feature?"

She shrugged. "It's possible, they definitely have the technology for it, but I don't think they really needed it. Up until now they've known where I've been every minute of every day." Martha explained. "My guess is they added me to the watchlist you guys are on. It was pretty obvious that if I was leaving I was leaving to find you."

"They knew you wanted to help us?" Five asked her.

Martha let out a sigh. "I did my best to put on an act to convince them I was on their side. And I know that it worked at least for a period of time. But I also knew that as soon as I left they would realize it was all an act. I wouldn't have any other reason to go."

Five wasn't sure what to say for a moment. Martha had been back in his life for a short 3 days and he was terrified that she had only reentered just to be ripped away from him again. Could the universe really be that cruel?

Of course it could. He knew better than anyone.

"So what are you going to do?" he finally built up the courage to ask.

She looked up at him. "What do you mean?"

He shrugged his thin shoulders. God he hated this body. "We have to think of something for you to say if you go back. And a way to communicate. You can still work from the inside we just have to figure out all the logistics."

She blinked. "What?"

"Are you going back?"

Martha turned her body to face him and wrapped her hands securely around his. When his gaze met hers the intensity in her brown eyes momentarily startled him. "Five, listen to me." She said carefully, "I'm not leaving. I'm staying here with all of you. Over my dead body they'll separate us again."

He couldn't help but smile.

"Besides" she continued, "there's a much easier solution. Well, not easy, but simple."

"Which would be?"

"You won't like it."

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

The Umbrella Academy all stood in the kitchen, watching anxiously as Five stood over Martha with the sharpest knife they could find. They were shocked when she told them about the implant put into her by the commission and horrified when she explained it had to be taken out of her. Rubbing alcohol, cotton balls, a needle and thread, and anything else they needed was spread out on the kitchen table with room for Martha to rest her head on. Diego sat against the wall on the other side of the room, his disgust of medical procedures having to do with blood keeping him from getting too close. Klaus on the other hand, who was used to blood and needles, sat adjacent to Martha waiting to help.

Five stared down at the knife, struggling to build up the courage to make the incision, while Martha's leg bounced with anticipation. He couldn't count the number of times he'd stitched her up on two hands. But being the one to cut her open in the first place? It made his stomach churn. He tried to remind himself why he had to do it. But that didn't make it much easier.

"Five-" she began.

He shook his head to stop her from saying more. "I can do it." He said, "I just need a second."

"It's already been 5 minutes." Klaus pointed out, "How many more seconds do you need?"

Five glared at him.

"If you can't do it I can." Vanya offered, mostly indifferent. She also had her fair share of experiences of stitching up her siblings after particularly brutal training sessions with their father.

"I said I can do it and I will." He insisted.

Five moved to stand behind Martha, who flipped her hair over and rested her head on the table. On the back of her neck, just before the base of her hairline, was a thin incision scar. Allison and Vanya each grabbed hold of Martha's hands for her to squeeze when Five sucked in a breath and lowered the knife.

Blood pooled out of the cut when he opened it and his stomach rolled over. Five grabbed the plyers off the table and pushed them in, being as gentle as he possibly could since the implant was attached to her spinal cord. Martha gripped Allison and Vanya's hands so tightly her quickly knuckles turned white and he could hear pained groans that she struggled to keep from turning into screams. There was a small _thud_ behind him that Five assumed was Diego passing out.

The plyers were big and chunky for such a small opening but Five didn't want to make it any wider and risk it taking longer to heal. Still, the small opening made it longer to get it done.

"Hurry up." She said through gritted teeth.

"What does it look like I'm doing?"

"Five," Martha warned, "I don't need a fucking attitude right now."

"I'm sorry. I'm stressed."

The plyers bumped against something that felt different from what he'd been feeling so far. He managed to get them secured around something square sticking out from her cervical and sucked in a deep breath. "I think I got it." He told her. "It's on really tight so it's gonna hurt, okay?"

"Okay." she whimpered. The sound of her sounding so pained made the two girls hold onto her tighter.

Klaus prepared the needle and thread to hand to him as Five prepared himself, both physically and mentally, to pull the implant out. What if it wasn't actually the implant he was feeling? What if he pulled out a part of her spine and she was unable to walk ever again? He knew she had scoliosis, what did that mean for this? His knowledge of human anatomy wasn't far above average but he suddenly wished he's spread out his studying a bit more.

He gripped the plyers with both hands and, with one hard yank, pulled the implant out.

A string of shouts and curses came out of her mouth as Martha's body began to quiver in pain. He didn't even bother looking at what he'd taken out before he threw the plyers down on the table and snatched the needle from his brother. Five could hear himself whispering apologizes but he didn't remember making the choice to say them. He worked as fast as he possibly could to stitch up the wound but it was much deeper than the one from Diego earlier. Allison and Vanya rubbed the back of her hands while Klaus and Luther told her how great she was doing. Who knew his siblings could be so caring?

As soon as he cut the thread short he dropped down onto his knees next to her and moved her hair away so he could see her. Tears were streaming down her face and made him wish he could take away her pain, even if it meant taking it on himself. He lost his fingers in her hair and brushed his thumb across her temple, for once not caring that his family was around to see him in such a way. Even when they were young he was always the stoic one. Emotions never got the best of him, and he certainly never let them bring his guard down. Vanya was the only one who'd seen even a fraction of his softer side. Suddenly they all had a front row seat to see and all he cared about was that Martha was okay.

"I'm sorry." He said, his voice tight. Seeing Martha cry had the same kind of affect that a wailing child or scared puppy did. "I'm sorry Martha."

With her head still resting on the table she turned to look at him. "Don't be sorry." She said, offering him the best attempt at a smile she could manage. "I know it was hard."

She slipped one of her hands free and picked up the plyers, still holding onto the implant. They all leaned in to look at it, excluding an unconscious Diego. It was a small square chip, barely over a centimeter tall, with frayed wires sticking out the bottom. It was entirely unremarkable other than its microscopic size and yet its ability was out of this world. Five took it from the plyers grip, hands still coated in Martha's blood, and held it close to his face. It seemed tastelessly humorous that such a small, insignificant looking thing could have brought upon such torture.

Before anyone could say much he got to his feet and stalked over to the other side of the room. He placed the implant on the counter before grabbing a can of coffee grinds. He held it over his head before bringing it down and smashing the implant until it was sufficiently damaged.

"I told you it didn't have a tracking device in it." Martha said once he was done.

"Can't be too careful when we don't know for sure." He replied. And though this was true it wasn't why he'd destroyed it. It certainly wasn't why he'd done so with such force.

After cleaning up as much blood as they could Allison and Vanya went to help her change out of her second pair of bloodstained clothes. Five stood outside the door the whole time, listening to ever whimper and sound of struggle and resisting the urge to go inside. He and Martha's relationship was intimate but not quite in that way.

It felt like an hour before Allison opened the door so Five could enter. He rushed inside only to find Vanya trying to persuade Martha to lay down and rest. She looked exhausted and was clearly in pain, yet she protested as Vanya tried to lead her over to the bed.

"There's too much to do." She said to her. "There's no time."

"Martha-" Five began, his tone sharp and already annoyed at her stubbornness.

But Vanya stepped in before he could continue. "Why don't we keep training while you stay here and rest? You told us what we needed to work on and we'll all observe each other. We'll get it done but you need to rest."

She seemed to try to think of an argument to combat her reasoning but was unable to. Martha nodded her head and allowed Vanya to lead her over to the bed. Five had to keep a hand on the back of her head to keep her neck as still as possible and she lay down on her back. He pulled the blanket up to her chest, making sure to keep her arms untucked in the way she liked, and sat down next to her once she was settled in.

"I'll stay with you." Five said. "Make sure you're okay, get whatever you need."

"No." she said, shaking her head the fraction she was able to before wincing. "There's work to be done, and I know you're the only one that will be as much of a drill sergeant as I am."

Normally he would have laughed but the weakness in her voice prevented him from appreciating her humor. "But-"

"No buts." She said, cutting him off. "This is more important."

Despite how much he wanted to argue he knew she was right. Martha's health and safety was an integral part of the things he cared about. But so was stopping the apocalypse. There would be no Martha to worry about if the world ended. No more opportunity to be there when she needed him. And as much as he wanted to be there to make sure she was okay Five knew she was. Martha had faced so much worse in the time that he'd known her, and couldn't even imagine what she'd faced when they'd been apart.

Five nodded and gave her hand a light squeeze before standing up. When he turned away he found himself facing Vanya who offered him a small smile.

"I'll stay here with her." she assured him, "Make sure everything's okay for you."

It was likely obvious to everyone around that Vanya was his favorite of his siblings, despite the fact that he wished he didn't have a favorite sibling. But wishing for a different family circumstance was futile and so he allowed himself to just be glad Vanya was there. Had anyone else offered to stay with Martha they would have undoubtedly made some kind of comment or remark. But not Vanya. He knew she was thinking it, but at least she had the decency to keep it to herself.

"Thanks." He said simply before leaving the room and heading out to the living room.

Once he was gone Vanya closed the door over for the most part and turned back to Martha, who now let a pained expression take over her face. "Can you take something for the pain?" she asked.

"Probably not." Martha replied simply.

"Well you need to do something." Vanya urged her, "You're in pain, you can't just stay like this. I can run out and get you something stronger."

Martha's hand secures over Vanya's before she can make to leave. "No." she said, almost pleaded. "I'll be fine. And I can change my mind later. Stay here for now."

Vanya simply nodded and brought both her legs up onto the bed, sitting facing her. For a few passing minutes they were both silent, listening to the voices coming from the other room. From the sound of it Klaus was facing off against Five and getting his ass kicked. A faint smile crossed on Martha's face when there was a _thud_ followed by Klaus groaning.

"I know what you're thinking." Martha said, wincing as he moved as much as she could to face Vanya. "When I said I didn't want you to do training you thought I didn't think you were valuable enough. Right?"

Vanya simply shrugged her shoulders, not wanting to confirm her suspicions out loud.

"Well that's not what I think. It's the opposite of what I think." Martha assured her. "I think you could easily overpower all of them combined if you gained control over your abilities. Hell, you almost did it already in the same day you discovered you have abilities."

"Maybe."

"Definitely." She corrected her. "I know I'm right about this. I'm right about a lot of things, ask your brother." She leaned her head back onto the pillow. "I didn't want to train with you today because I'm going to dedicate an entire day to focusing on you. It'll take some practice but you'll get there."

"But what if I don't?" Vanya asked, voicing her concerns for the first time since she'd been told she _was_ the apocalypse. "What if I can't take control and I just make everything worse?"

"That won't happen. I _promise_ you, Vanya." Martha became suddenly serious. "You _will_ gain control, and I'm going to help you through it. We all will."

"How do you know?"

"I've never been so sure of anything in my life." she let out a short sigh and closed her eyes. "I didn't escape the commission just for us to fail. It simply isn't an option."

Vanya was beginning to get a better idea of how Martha was able to put up with Five all by herself for so long.


	7. Chapter 6: Could Have, Should Have

_Date unknown, the commission, Doomsday Ward_

"Good morning sunshine."

Martha looked up from her plate of breakfast at Nicoli, who had slid into the spot across from her. She was not a morning person and the rest of the experiments knew it, hence why she had been sat by herself before he walked over. He hardly winced at the glare she sent him before looking down at her food again. "It's a morning." She agreed between bites of bland eggs. "Don't know if I'd call it a good one."

Nicoli's body was 25 and, even with the 40 years without sunlight, he was still handsome. He had a fair complexion in a way that suited him and his hair was almost always closely shaven to his head. His face was angular and made it easy to be intimidating when he wanted to. But when he smiled at her sour mood he didn't look like the killer they'd trained him to be.

She had no problem admitting he was attractive. But everyone in the dining room knew her mind was on another man.

"You written any new songs?" He asked, attempting to make conversation despite the fact that she didn't converse before 8 am.

Martha nodded her head. "Yeah." She answered. "A few."

"Any of them about me?"

She snorted and looked up at him. "Why would I write songs about you?" she asked skeptically.

Nicoli shrugged his shoulders. "I would write songs about you if I was musically inclined."

Martha stared at him for a moment, trying to decide if he was being serious or not. He sometimes said things along the same lines that made her wonder if they had the same intentions behind their back and forth banter. When she couldn't decide she just shook her head at him. "Don't be such a flirt." She told him, grabbing her tray and standing up. "I'll see you at training."

Before she could walk away her chair pushed itself back in and knocked her back down into a sitting position. She glared at him, knowing he was the only one besides her that would be capable of doing such a thing. "What the hell?"

"You're a tease, Martha."

"And you're an idiot." She set her tray back down with an angry _clatter_. "We've been over this; I don't date my friends. And I don't date cellmates."

He nodded his head. "Right, right, you only date your partners."

Martha's cup of orange juice flew off the table and dumped itself over his head. Viktor and Daniel, sitting at the table a few feet away, looked over at them nervously. It wasn't uncommon for a fight to break out when they were all put into the same room. A lot of power and emotions running high caused that kind of thing. Being the only girl as well as the possible object of Nicoli's affection made Martha an easy target.

"I want you to listen to me very carefully because the next time we have this conversation I'm going to break your legs." She leaned over the table and watched him rub the juice out of his eyes. "Anyone and anything that was part of my life before this is irrelevant and none of your business. Especially my previous love affairs."

She stood up again and let out an angry sigh as she turned his back to him. Martha didn't get very far before she heard Nicoli speak again. "You know, Martha, you think you got everyone fooled but we all know you're not over him. And we all know that if we ever get the chance to leave this goddamn place you're gonna be the one to get us killed. So why don't you think about how it would feel to risk our lives and then do some goddamn self-reflection."

Martha didn't say a word and instead chose to go back to being locked in her room down the hall. There was no point in arguing when Nicoli, and his unmanagable jealousy, was the one that would get them killed.

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

Vanya fidgeted nervously on the couch and watched as Martha fiddled with the radio, trying to find a station that pleased her. Her movements were stiff with concealed pain despite the fact that earlier that morning she had insisted to continue with business as usual. The extraction of the implant hadn't happened 24 hours yet and they had all taken turns trying to convince her to slow down. She wouldn't have it. For once she had opted for a t-shirt, putting her stitched up cut and collapsed veins on display. Now that everyone knew what was the point in hiding them? She chose a station she thought might suit Vanya's liking and settled for a classical music station before pushing herself to her feet.

"Ready?"

She shook her head. "Not really." Vanya admitted.

Martha waved her worries away. "You'll do fine." She assured her, sitting on the coffee table across from her. "In order to control your abilities you need to learn to control your emotions. So let's start there; why are you so nervous?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "I caused the apocalypse. And if I can't get control I can cause it again."

"A chain of events that ended with you caused the apocalypse." Martha corrected. "You never would have lost control of your powers if you hadn't met Leonard, and you never would have met Leonard if you didn't play the violin, and you never would have played the violin if your father needed to give you an outlet for your emotions. All of those things had to happen in order for you to be in the position to do what you did. No one person is powerful enough to cause the apocalypse all on their own."

Vanya clearly didn't believe her but chose not to say anything.

"What else are you afraid of?" Martha asked.

"Losing control."

"Why?"

She shook her head at the displeasure of the memory playing in her mind. "I hurt my family. I hurt Leonard. I know he wasn't who I thought he was but…"  
"What did you do to them?"

"I killed him." She squeezed her eyes shut. "I hurt Allison."

With her eyes closed she wasn't able to see the lights blinking and the pictures hanging off the wall begin to shake. A satisfied grin spread on Martha's face and she continued to bombard Vanya with questions.

"How did you hurt her?"

"I… I slit her throat."

"Why?"  
"I don't remember."

"_Why_ Vanya?"

"Because it was all her fault!" Vanya exclaimed, pounding her fist onto her leg and causing the couch she sat on to jump in the air. Both she and Martha jumped in surprise and suddenly the lights stopped blinking.

Martha reached for her and put her hands on her knees. "Just breathe, Vanya." She said softly. "Breathe and relax. We have to keep going, okay?"

Vanya nodded.

"What's her fault?" Martha asked, retracting her hands.

"Everyone thinking I'm ordinary." She answered. "That I'm nothing special. She told me what she did and I got mad and lost control."

"What did she do?"

"Our father told her to use her powers and tell me I was ordinary."

"Why?"

"He was scared of me. He…" her hands balled into fist in her lap and the lights started to blink again. "He locked me up in the basement. For _years_."

"What else?"

"He never let me do anything my siblings did."

The picture frames on the wall vibrated. She was holding back.

"What else Vanya?" Martha grabbed hold of her wrists. "What else did he do?"

"He medicated me. I was numb for _17 years_. And now I don't know how to deal with anything."

"Deal with what?"

"How much he messed us up. How me made sure I was never close with anyone."

"_What else_?"

"How he ruined my life!"

The coffee table Martha sat on flew back about 5 feet. She grabbed onto the edge to keep herself from falling off and jumped to her feet as soon as it stopped. "Control that anger!" she said without missing a beat. "Your father is dead, Vanya. And you're a grown woman. _You're_ in control."

She shook her head. "No, I'm not."

"Yes you are!"

Martha picked up the glass of water she'd been drinking from before they started and threw it across the room at Vanya. She held her hands up in front of her face and turned away in preparation but the glass shattered in mid air before it could reach her. The fragments clattered on the ground harmlessly between the two women and when Vanya looked up she saw Martha grinning at her.

"What was that?" she demanded. "Are you trying to help me or trying to make me go blind?"

"I'm helping you." Martha said, pointing at the broken glass on the floor. "If you weren't in control you wouldn't have been able to do that. Or you would have done more and wouldn't be able to stop."

Vanya shook her head, crossing her arms and hugging herself. "I can't do this."

"You _can_. And you will." Glass crunched under Martha's sneakers as she came over to her. "Every single person here has lost control, Vanya. Ben and the accident, Klaus and drugs, Five and the apocalypse. Don't you think I lost control when all this started for me?" she put her hands on her shoulders. "What I said to Diego about emotions being our downfall; it's true for everyone but you. Your emotions and everything you've been through is our biggest asset."

Vanya didn't want to hear any of this. She knew why she'd felt the way she had for so many years but that didn't make it any easier to ignore how insignificant she felt. The one thing she'd ever prided herself on was her music and that too had been taken away from it when it became her weapon.

"I don't want to do this." Vanya said softly. "I don't want to be special, I don't want to be invisible. I just want to be normal."

A look of pity crossed Martha's face. She was preaching to the choir. "Once we've stopped the apocalypse you can have the most average life there ever was. But we need you right now, Vanya. Yes, you were the one who started the apocalypse. But you're the only one that can stop it."

Vanya wondered how her father would react to someone speaking to her in such a way. After spending her whole life trying to convince her that she was nothing special he would have rolled over in his grave if he could hear Martha.

When Vanya didn't seem to be in the mood for much talking Martha let her hands drop to her sides. "You know something that really helped me was writing music. It was hard to find songs that perfectly articulated what I was feeling so I made me own. Have you ever tried that?"

She shook her head. "No." she admitted. "I don't even know how I'd start."

"You can try a mashup of your favorite pieces." Martha walked over to the violin in its case sitting on the armchair and brought it over. Vanya stared down at it as if she didn't quite know what to do. "Please, Vanya, just try."

She didn't want to. Not one bit. It was all too much responsibility on her shoulder. She knew Martha was trying to make her feel better by telling her how important she was in the equation but it was only making her worse. Vanya looked up at her to protest but when her eyes met the girls she found that the idea of telling her 'no' seemed impossible. She reluctantly undid the latch of the case and took the instrument out.

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

Five sat on the creaky fireplace outside of the London apartment, watching the view of the street and listening to Vanya playing the violin inside. Martha had kicked everyone out and insisted that they needed privacy to do their work and he had jumped onto the fire escape as soon as she closed the door. Was he being clingy? Perhaps. But he'd thought she was dead the whole time. At least she'd known he was alive and okay. He had absolutely no clue what had happened to her.

He was well aware of the fact that Martha was perfectly capable of taking care of herself without him around for an hour or two. But he also knew that anything could happen when she was out of his sight. The commission could swoop in and steal her away and he'd be totally clueless until it was too late. Another one of the effects of what she'd been through could take its toll on her. One of his siblings could scare her away.

So, after attempting to put up a fight, he settled for sitting on the fire escape and listening to her and Vanya.

After some time he pulled the polaroid picture of them out from his wallet and gazed down at it while he listened to Vanya's violin. Five wasn't a man to dwell on regrets. The past was the past and there were more important reasons for reliving history. But when he thought about being on the road with Martha his mind was filled with a bittersweet concoction of joy and guilt.

The way things went only made him more determined to destroy the commission.

He looked up at the sound of footsteps climbing down the fire escape and found Klaus coming down from the roof. For a moment he expected his brother to come down high as a kite and prepared to reprimand him but when Klaus got to his level he was as sober as he'd been since they arrived in the past. His consistent sobriety was surprising to everyone but no one dared to question him in hopes of risking their luck.

"What were you doing on the roof?" Five asked when Klaus sat down on the ledge next to him.

He shrugged his shoulders. "Thinking." He said simply.

Five had a suspicion that his consistent sobriety and recent habit of disappearing onto the roof had to do with his deceased lover he hardly spoke of. He decided to continue not mentioning it to him.

Klaus glanced behind them at the window into the apartment. "They're still at it?" he asked.

Five nodded.

"Don't you think… that Martha's wasting her time? I mean, do we _really_ have enough time for Vanya to get a grip well enough to be useful?"

He wanted to argue that Martha knew what she was doing, as he normally would, but Klaus had a point. "I don't know." He admitted. "It's going okay right now. But they need to go faster. Martha has 60 years worth of training and experience. She's ready. Vanya, realistically, doesn't have much more than a month."

Klaus sighed and shook his head. "Maybe we should be focusing on offense instead of defense against the commission."

Five glanced at him. "Since when were you so smart?"

He laughed and put his hand on Five's shoulder. "You're guess is as good as mine, brother." For a moment he looked at Five and he eventually began to worry what Klaus might say. "You look like shit, Five."

"Thanks."

"Seriously. When was the last time you slept?"

He had to resist the urge to roll his eyes. Sleep. What a waste of time. "Klaus, I haven't slept since the apocalypse."

Klaus waved him off. "Yeah, I figured. But you don't normally look so… drained."

Instead of replying Five looked back out at the view of the street and tucked the polaroid picture that Klaus had yet to notice into his sleeve. His body had learned how to function on a minimal amount of sleep a long time ago. But even then he was awake longer hours than usual. By the time he crawled into the shared bed at night his mind was in overdrive of plans and possible tactics against the commission. When he eventually managed to calm down his brain as much as possible he found himself laying awake and unable to close his eyes. Every time he did he saw images his imagination forced on him of Martha being experimented on. For the past few days he had spent almost the entire night watching her. Seeing her sleeping form and paying the price for staying awake was a much better option than facing the nightmares he would have if he did sleep.

"Why don't you jump in and take a nap or something?" Klaus suggested. "We're not doing anything right now, you have some time."

Five simply shook his head.

"All the coffee in the world won't give your body what sleep can."

"I'll sleep when we stop the apocalypse."

"And what if we don't?" Klaus asked. "Do you want to look like shit at your own funeral?"

Five glared at his brother and the inappropriate sense of humor he'd had since they were children.

Klaus let out a sigh and stretched his legs out, leaning his back against the brick wall behind him. "You know, I'm saying all this because I understand."

He scoffed at his brother. "What could you possibly understand, Klaus?"

"That sleeping with one eye open isn't enough. Thinking that staying awake for days at a time is worth it to know she's okay every second of every day." His gaze followed Five's to the pedestrians of London, blissfully unaware of what they were working towards. "You think you're protecting her. But she can protect herself, and you'll be useless when you die from exhaustion."

Five was dumbfounded and wouldn't have known how to reply even if he wanted to.

"I couldn't sleep much without the drugs anyway." Klaus continued. "But then I ended up staying all night making sure that none of the other guys messed with Dave. They knew he was… different. They called him soft. He just had more of a heart than any of them did. So I'd stay up all night watching him to make sure no one stole his stuff or pulled anything while he was sleeping."

Klaus dug into his wallet and pulled out a folded up picture that he'd stolen from the veterans bar. He pointed at himself and another slightly taller man with a friendly smile. "He knew how to take care of himself, and I knew that, but he was such a nice guy that it made it easy to forget."

"Martha's a trained killer who can move shit with her mind." Klaus said, "I think if anything she'd be protecting you."

"That's the point." Five finally said. "She puts people before her too much."

Klaus shook his head at his younger, but older, brother. "You know, you two remind me of Dave and I."

Five laughed. "In what world?"

Klaus laughed too. "The even stranger part is that you remind me of me."

"How?"

"You're just… different around her." he explained. "You know, I remember when we were kids at the donut shop and this girl was trying to flirt with you so you were purposely really cold with her because you couldn't be bothered."

Five remembered her only because of how his siblings made fun of him. She'd been an attractive looking girl but he could tell immediately that she cared more about her appearance than her brain.

"And, I mean this in the nicest way dear brother, but you're a dick." He continued. "You think you're better than everyone and you're not quiet about it. I think she's the only one I've ever seen you treat like an equal."

Because Martha was the only one who was his equal.

"She makes you a better person. That's what Dave did with me." Klaus gazed down at the picture with the same sort of nostalgic sadness Five felt whenever he looked at his own polaroid. After a moment or two passed he folded the picture back up and tucked it back into his wallet. "I don't know, it's hard to describe. But I imagine that if Dave and I were heterosexual teens the four of us would have gone on double dates to the mall."

"I'd never say yes to that."

"No, but Martha would. And you can't say no to her."

It was true.

Five knew Klaus was saying all this in an attempt to get him to open up and spill all his secrets on his partner. They weren't even secrets. They were just private details he preferred to keep to himself. He and his family never had a typical dynamic. Did they really expect him to tell them about how they used to dance to songs on the radio in their motel room until midnight? Or that she was the first person to do more than a card and shared cake for his birthday? Or that despite the countless places they'd been and things they'd seen she had always been the most exciting part?

He slipped the photo out of his sleeve and looked down at it once more. He felt Klaus notice it and was thankful that he chose not to say anything about it. "You want me to tell you that we were like time traveling Bonnie and Clyde. But I can't. We weren't. We were never… like that. Not really."

"Why? She wasn't into you back then?"

"That's not it."

"You weren't into her?"

"Definitely not it." Five shook his head. "I just thought that there was no rush. We literally could have been partners forever. When I met her she'd been working for the commission for 115 years. If we had even half that time I wouldn't have felt pressured. Why worry about making things official when you're convinced you have eternity to be with someone?"

Klaus nodded, seeming to understand as best he could with his limited experience with time travel. "But you guys were, you know, an item?"

Five swallowed hard and nodded. He hated talking about such personal things with his family. And if someone had told him that Klaus would be the person he chose to open up to he would have laughed.

"What about Deloris?"

"Deloris is a mannequin, Klaus."

"I was beginning to think someone had to tell you that."

He allowed himself a short laugh. "Deloris was my rock when I was in the apocalypse. I always knew she wasn't _really_ real but she kept me from feeling like I was crazy. But then I met Martha. And I knew Deloris wanted me to be happy with someone I didn't have to carry from room to room."

"Very considerate of her." Klaus said, his voice slightly sarcastic.

It was. But that was Deloris.

"So what are you gonna do now?"

"What do you mean?"

Klaus waved his hands around in reference to the situation they were in. "You guys have a time limit. There's a good chance that you might not see each other once we storm into the commission. Are you gonna make the same mistake you met last time?"

Five did what he always did when faced with an uncomfortable topic of conversation; left it.

"Being separated from Martha again isn't an option." He said, standing up from the spot where he'd been sitting. "There'll be time to think about all that once we've stopped the apocalypse."

"Five-" Klaus began, attempting to warn him that he was making the wrong choice. But his sentence trailed off when the young boy disappeared from sight.

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

A little over an hour later Five only knew Vanya and Martha had finished because he heard soft footsteps approaching his shared room from the living room. They stopped in the doorway, followed by the door closing, and soon Martha stood in his field of vision. Her hair was tied up in a knot on her forehead and looked both exhausted and in pain. Yet still somehow she was beautiful. Her expression was concerned and her eyebrows pulled together when she asked him "What's wrong?"

He forced himself to sit up, his body tired and begging him to lie back down. Though he hadn't intended to lie down and teeter on the edge of sleep when he went inside Klaus had been right; his body was running out of steam. He'd never actually managed to fall asleep but for the first time in what felt like forever his mind had been clear as he fell into a zombie-like state of awakeness.

"Nothing." he said to her, standing up and turning to face her. "I'm just tired."

"Have you been sleeping okay?"

"Yeah." He lied. "Just… got a lot on my mind I suppose."

She tucked some hairs that had escaped behind her ears. "Like what? Do you want to talk about it?"

"No."

"Can I help?"

"Yes."

"How?"

Five closed the small gap between them and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her into a hug. Though she was clearly surprised Martha locked her arms around his neck, leaning her forehead against his cheek. It was out of character for him to be touchy. That was usually her job. But he was glad that she didn't question it since he didn't plan on explaining what he had been thinking before she came in.

"Are you okay?" She asked him. Her voice was quiet and her warm breath tickled his neck.

_No_. "Yeah. I just… I missed you."

Martha picked her head up enough to kiss his cheek. "I missed you too."

He could have kissed her then. He should have kissed her then. But he just hugged her tighter instead.


	8. Chapter 7 Measly Morals

_Date unknown, the commission, gymnasium_

Five didn't need to train. He had been in combat since his early teens. Though there were admittedly some similarities. Going after bank robbers was different from being a hitman. Still, he knew what he was doing, he didn't need training.

But the commission had insisted he needed to learn their way of fighting. It was about stealth and being effective. Which wasn't exactly his strong suit. Five managed to swallow his pride and not put up a fight as he joined the rest of newly hired hitmen into a large gym.

The first thing he noticed was the variations of age and style in the others already inside. There were 40 year old men in bellbottoms and 25 year old women in 18th century dresses. It was certainly a strange group.

The second thing he noticed was the weapons. Guns lining the walls, an overflowing box of grenades, a row of knives sitting on a table. The Hargreaves mansion had been anything but a safe space for a typical child to grow up but the gym of the commission was something else entirely.

2 rows of fold up chairs sat facing each other on opposite sides of the room. Five chose the closest empty seat he could find, one that happened to be next to a girl that looked straight out of a magazine from the 60s. A mustard colored top with a peter pan collar was tucked into a black skirt and she had a matching yellow headband behind short bangs. As he approached her he noticed she couldn't be a day over 18 and seemed like she didn't belong. She was picking nervously at her cuticles when he sat down and his appearance caught her attention.

"Is this your first day of training?" she asked him. Her brown eyes were too big and excited for where they were.

Five nodded his head. "Yours too?"

"No, I started about a week ago. This seat's been empty the whole time." She rested her hands in her lap. "What department did you transfer from?"

"None."

The girl blinked at him a few times. "You mean they hired you for this straight away?"

"Is that uncommon?"

She nodded. "Haven't heard of it more than a few times the entire time I've been with the commission."

Entire time? She spoke as if it had been a while. Given her appearance she couldn't have been working there for more than a few months. "Which would be how long exactly?"

"115 years."

Oh.

"But you're…"

"Young?" Five silently nodded in response. "They hired me to work in reception when I was 17 and I haven't aged since. I have scoliosis, and it's not too bad now, but if I get much older it will cause a lot of problems for me. I suppose the lifelong acne is a small sacrifice."

She talked too much. Though what she said was interesting he found himself too annoyed with her to be engaged in the conversation. Her presence was bright, like a 15 watt stadium light. Too much and too early in the morning. They were there to be trained on how to expertly kill people. Why was she in such a good mood? It was almost morbid how happy she was surrounded by so many weapons.

She reminded him of a girl that used to live down the street from him growing up. Her name had been Laurette and they had the same happy-go-lucky attitude that Five had never possessed. They even looked somewhat alike. Blonde hair, tanned skin, brown eyes. Though Laurette was taller than the girl sitting beside Five. Though he'd never once admitted it to a single soul Laurette had been the first, and only, living girl he'd ever had a crush on. Comparing the girl beside him to her made his face feel warm.

The girl held her hand out for him to shake. "My name's Martha, by the way."

Five stared at her offer before reluctantly taking her hand. "Five."

She frowned at him. "That's not a real name."

"It is in my house."

"Well I won't call you by a number."

"Call me by it or call me nothing at all."

Martha didn't seem sure how to respond so she turned forward again and continued the extraction of a hangnail she'd been working on when he came over. Five sat next to her and wondered if someone had made some kind of mistake sending her there. When their instructor called her up to face off against much taller and larger man in an 80s punk rock outfit and she had his arm pinned against his back within 5 minutes Five no longer wondered.

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

Martha sat on the couch next to Allison, the front door of the apartment open behind them. Allison looked between Five, standing in the doorway looking ready to argue, and Martha, her nose buried in a magazine and doing her best to ignore him. She had been working one on one with Vanya the past three days and kicking everyone out of the apartment to do so. Though she was tight lipped she seemed satisfied with the progress they'd made since that morning she'd asked Allison if they could work one on one after lunch.

"Don't you think-" Five began.

"No." Martha said cutting him off. "You'll just distract me."

"Has it ever crossed your mind that I might help you?"

She set the magazine down in her lap and turned to face him. "Now more than ever we can't have people around who don't have a way with words. Unless that's suddenly changed you'll have to come back later."

Five opened his mouth, ready to continue the debate before promptly shutting it when he possibly realized she had a point. Not only was he not delicate with words but he had a short temper. As if to prove this he left with a short huff and closed the door with a loud _thud_ behind him.

Allison looked over at Martha with a small crease in her brow. Though it was obvious that the two time travelers were close it was also clear that they sometimes argued like an old married couple. "Don't you worry that he'll be mad at you?"

Martha shrugged her shoulders, leaning back on the couch again. "He's always mad about something." She said. "But it never really lasts. He'll be fine when he comes back and we'll have the same argument tomorrow."

She shook her head. "I really don't think I understand you two."

"We're used to it." Martha said, turning on the couch to face her. Her demeanor immediately changed and suddenly she was all business. "I couldn't help but notice I haven't seen you use your powers once since I got here."

Allison shifted uncomfortably on the couch. "Yeah, I don't really… do that anymore."

"Why not?"

She shook her head. "It's not worth it. I've hurt too many people with my powers. I've given up on that, so I hate to say it but your kind of wasting your time."

"I don't think I'm wasting my time."

If Martha was as difficult to argue with as Five as Allison was in for a challenge. "I'm sorry, but I made up my mind a long time ago. I'm done with using my powers."

She nodded a few times. "Okay. Well why don't you tell me what made you so against it so I can understand better."

It wasn't something she liked talking about, and she could count the number of people she had told on one hand, but for some reason she felt like she could trust Martha. Though she was stubborn and sometimes testy when it came to training she didn't seem judgmental. She didn't care how young her partner had become, she didn't mind that one of her current roommates was off drugs for less than a week when she moved in, and she ignored the family dynamic around her for the most part. Also considering that she said she'd been trained to match Vanya and Allison she assumed Martha had a similar sort of ability.

Allison let out a sigh before she began speaking. "Well I stopped using them a lot once I got married and started doing well in my career. Only every once in a while, when I felt like I had to. There was one night where I was alone with my daughter and she had strep throat for the first time. She wouldn't stop crying, for hours, and I just wanted her to go to sleep. I didn't hear my husband come home because she was crying and he… saw me use my powers on her."

"We were already having problems in our marriage but we were trying to work through them. But when he saw me my life just fell apart. He filed for divorce, and right now he's trying to get custody of her. He wants me to only be able to see her on supervised visits." She managed to swallow back tears and looked down at the ground. "So it just doesn't feel worth it to me anymore. One little thing, that seemed so simple and easy, ruined my life. So just train me on combat because I won't use my powers."

Martha let Allison's story sink in. When she was in business and training mode she was an entirely different person. When they were eating meals or taking breaks she was a bubbly and high spirited young woman. But when she flipped the switch it made it easier to see the pain and trained killer within her. She bit on her fingernails, which Allison could tell was a bad habit of hers by the length of her nails, and it was almost as if the shadows under her eyes began to grow darker.

"The problem with an ability like yours is that you need to be able to word things very carefully or else you can get in trouble." Martha eventually said. "And I completely understand why you don't want to use them. I don't like using my mind altering abilities either."

She rested her elbows on her knees and leaned towards Allison. "The problem is that what's holding you back is your morals. You're a good person, Allison. But we're fighting against people who aren't good. The hardest part isn't being stealthy or planning everything down to the T. The problem is that you have to learn how to accept going into it that you're going to do things that you don't want to do."

Allison shook her head. "You're wasting your breath, Martha. I won't do it."

Martha seemed to ignore what she said since she continued as if Allison interrupted. "I hate using that part of my ability. But when I escaped the commission I had to use them in order to get a briefcase. Up until then I hadn't used my ability in a long time, can't say exactly how long since time is relative and hard to keep track of in a cell, but I knew I had to do it in order to find you guys and stop the apocalypse."

Allison knew she had a point, and knew that Martha was educated enough on the topic to know exactly what she was talking about. But she was determined to stay set in her ways. There were other ways she could help, right? And since Martha had a similar sort of ability didn't that mean they didn't need Allison's.

She seemed to see that Allison had yet to budge and she let out a sigh. "Think about it this way; what if the only way to stop the apocalypse was for you to use your powers would you do it?"

"Well of course I would." Allison answered. "But I don't see how that would happen."

"It might not directly." Martha admitted. "But it's all about chain of events. We need everything we can get right now. And I might be overstepping my boundary here, but I have a feeling it's more than just what happened with your daughter that makes you reluctant."

"You're overstepping a little."

"But I'm overstepping because I'm right, aren't I?"

Allison blinked a few times. She was torn between her past use of her powers being too powerful to talk about and trusting and wanting to help Martha and her family in stopping the apocalypse. She was also beginning to wonder if she was beginning to get a taste of what Vanya had felt her whole life. If her abilities were the only way she could help then she was completely useless.

Martha took her silence as a 'yes'. "What else happened that makes you so against your powers?"

She swallowed hard and looked down at the hardwood floor. "Some of my success in my career, and my marriage, may have something to do with it."

She nodded a few times. "Ah, I see." Martha said, crossing her legs and turning to fully face Allison on the couch. "Well, how much of your career is due to your abilities?"

"Pretty much my entire start." Allison admitted.

"Well your career wouldn't have continued if you weren't talented, you do realize that right?" Martha asked her.

She'd never really thought about it that way. She'd been too ashamed of herself to reflect on it that much. And she supposed Martha had a point. Allison was a good actress and she knew it, but it was common knowledge that making a start in the career path was difficult.

"And your husband, how long were you married to him?"

"Twelve years."

Martha nodded her head. "You may have gotten married to him because of your abilities, but you didn't stay married to him because of them. All power has limits. I can't imagine yours last forever. By the time it wore off he was probably genuinely in love with you. And if he wasn't? It doesn't matter much now, does it?"

"I suppose not." Allison admitted.

She squinted at her. "I get the feeling that there might be something else."

"It's something I don't want to talk about."

"I think you do."

Martha was right. Ever since she and Vanya discovered what their father had made her do she had been mortified with herself. It was a memory that made her entire body tense with pain every time it entered her mind, but she knew she'd have to talk about it eventually. Maybe Martha was the person to tell. It was clear she had her own share of demons and had done some things she too wasn't proud of.

"Five probably told you our dad was pretty shitty to us growing up." Allison began.

"He mentioned it." She said with a small smile.

"Well, when we discovered Vanya's powers, I remembered something from our childhood. I was so little I don't think I would have remembered it if Vanya's powers hadn't been discovered. But…" Allison swallowed hard, "our father made me use my powers to tell her she was ordinary, that she was nothing special. And that's what she thought of herself for her entire life. So clearly my power doesn't have a time limit."

"I think it does." Martha said sadly, "And by the time it wore off there were lots of other reasons for her to feel that way besides what you told her." she leaned forward and put her hand on Allison's shoulder. "But you know that wasn't your fault, right? You were a child following your parents rule. Which, considering who your father was, is completely understandable."

Allison shook her head. "I just feel like I ruined her life."

"That was your father's doing, Allison." Martha said. "He was the one who told you to do it. His parenting had its effects on all of you. That was what it did to Vanya."

"I just can't even imagine how I would start using my powers again." Allison confessed. "It's been so long."

"Do it to me first." Martha said. "I'm a willing participant. I give you full permission to use your abilities on me. And start off small. Something inconsequential."

She wanted to protest but felt as if she couldn't. Everything Martha had said had gotten into her head. Were her morals really more important than the survival of the human race and Earth itself? It seemed kind of selfish when she thought about it that way.

"Okay." Allison finally said, taking a deep breath and building up the courage. "_I heard a rumor_… _that you think Five is cute when he's younger_."

Martha blinked at her a few times before a smile spread on her face. "Interesting. Your abilities have no power when what you're saying is already true."

"So what I said is true?"

"Try something else." She deflected.

"_I heard a rumor that you're too hungry to wait for lunch_."

After a moment Martha placed her hand on her stomach and swung her feet off the couch. "Good job." She said, getting to her feet. "We'll have to continue in the kitchen."

Allison got up and followed Martha into the kitchen, sitting down at the counter while she watched her dig through the refrigerator for something to eat. She pulled out a half finished container of white rice from the take out they had the night before and sat on the counter next to the sink. It was moments like those, her eating leftovers on the counter in the sweatpants she slept in, that it was easy to forget that she wasn't just a regular 17 year old girl.

"I'm sorry that you have to go so out of your comfort zone, but it's something we're all going to have to do." Martha said to her in between bites. "I couldn't care less if you never use your abilities again once our work is done. But for now we all need to accept that we have to compromise our morals."

"Don't you and Five ever get tired?" Allison asked her. "All you two think about is the apocalypse."

"It's not all I think about." Martha said simply.

"It's all you seem to talk about. Especially him."

She looked down at the container of her rice, suddenly looking a little sad. "When you only have a handful of things to motivate you for decades it kind of becomes the only thing you care about. I'm thankful that I had more to focus on other than the apocalypse, other goals. I'm not sure the same can be said for Five."

"Because you knew he was alive and he didn't?"

She shrugged. "Perhaps. If he did know he would have just been distracted. It's for the better he didn't know."

"I don't think he'd agree with that."

A small smile spread on her face. "No, I don't think he would either." She took another bite of rice. "I don't understand everyone's fascination with us, care to enlighten me?"

Allison sighed and leaned her elbows on top of the counter. "I don't think it's you as much as it is him." She said. "He's always been kind of a jerk, we're used to that. But we also know that he has a soft spot for us. He just doesn't show it. What's different about you is that he's very open about having a soft spot for you. It's strange to see."

"You guys didn't grow up the way most people do." Martha said. "Not that I did either, but still. Every one of you had people who taught you how to have as normal of a life as possible, and someone to care about you as someone more than the Umbrella Academy." She shook her head and dipped her spoon back in the rice. "Even before I knew how he grew up I knew something was wrong. I mean, who the hell calls themselves by a number their whole life?"

Allison laughed. "When our mom gave us all names he called it a façade. Said there was no point, that we were all just guinea pigs and she was trying to make us forget that."

Martha shook her head. "Sounds like something he'd say." She agreed. "I think I was more stubborn than he was used to people being. He knew I was going to be nice to him so he shut me out and tried to scare me off. But the jokes on him because it only made me nicer."

"He must have been really mean if he put an effort into being a jerk."

She smirked. "He was a bit cruel. But that was a long time ago. And it was good for me too. I needed a reminder that not everyone is going to like me, which I needed going into the business I was going into. I was too bright eyed and optimistic."

Allison laughed. "You sound like his worst nightmare."

"I think that's what he thought I was at first."

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

Hours later Allison lingered in the kitchen after she went to put her now empty plate in the sink. Her siblings and Martha were all in the living room with the television on and she could faintly hear chatter and laughter from where she stood. Try as she might to get her mind to focus on anything other than what she'd talked about earlier her subconscious seemed determined. Flashes of memory, Claire, Patrick, Vanya, made her cringe at herself and her own actions. She looked over at the briefcase sitting on the table across the room, tools set around it, and wished she could use it to go back in time and prevent herself from doing at least one of the things she regretted.

She heard Luther's heavy footsteps coming down the hallway before he appeared in the doorway and she quickly made herself look busy rinsing off her plate. She pretended to be surprised when he appeared in the doorway and flashed him a smile that felt forced. "Hey."

"Hey." He said, coming over to her. "You okay?"

Allison shrugged her shoulders. "I guess I just have a lot on my mind. We all do."

"That's true." Luther agreed. "How did it go today? Everything alright?"

Though he tried to hide it Allison could tell Luther was still a little suspicious of their guest. Not that she blamed him. After being alone on the moon for years and his only human contact after returning being his family it made sense for him to be wary of outsiders. "It went well." Allison said to him. "She's tough, but she obviously knows what she's doing."

"What did she say when you told her you didn't want to use your powers."

She let out a short sigh. "The same kind of thing she's been saying. We have to put aside our morals to save the commission, at least for a little while. She has a point."

"Does she?" Luther asked. "If we put aside our morals how are we any better than them?"

"Putting aside your morals isn't the same as forgetting them."

He hesitated. It was clear he didn't want to argue, and she didn't either. "I just think that ignoring your morals to defeat an enemy is treading into dangerous territory."

"I agree, Luther." Allison said, nodding her head. "But we're not fighting run of the mill criminals anymore. This is a timeless organization with futuristic technology. We need to use everything we have." She wanted to add that it was easy for him to say since he didn't have to compromise his morals to help but chose to keep her mouth shut.

Luther thought about what she said for a moment, letting her words sink in. She could tell he knew she was right, he just didn't like it. He ended up simply shaking his head and coming over to lean on the counter next to her. "Do you ever wish some of the other kids born like us would step up to the plate and do some of the work for us?"

Allison smiled. "Yeah, I used to." She admitted. "Until Martha told us what some of the others are doing right now."

He nodded, understanding exactly what she meant. "Don't you ever worry that she was trained to fight against us for 60 years? I mean, that mentality doesn't just go away does it?"

She thought for a moment. "I did when she first got here. But I have a feeling that she was kind of undercover the whole time. She wouldn't try so hard to prepare us to face them if she was secretly on their side."

"I guess so."

Both unsure what else to say they stayed silent and listened to the sound of the rest of the group laughing at a joke made on the television.


	9. Chapter 8: A Little Help From My Friend

Hello all! Sorry for going so long without an update but I haven't had much motivation for writing lately. I still don't, but I have a few chapters pre written and I've written more this week than I have in a couple months so I figured I would upload. Again, I'm sorry for the sparse uploads but I promise I'm working on it! I at least hope this was worth the wait.

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_Attaboy bar, Lower East Side New York City, 1924_

In a hidden speakeasy, in the basement of a laundromat, Saturday night was in full swing. The band was playing, the customers were dancing, and in the middle of the room two hitmen chased their third shot of vodka down with a lemon wedge. Normally they had to do a lot of persuading to get bartenders to serve Martha. But in a time when serving alcohol to anyone was illegal they didn't even ask her how old she was.

They both winced more at the lemon as they set their shot glasses down on the table with two loud _thuds_. When they first started working together Five had found it annoying and over the top that Martha insisted on dressing appropriate to the time period. As time went on he rather enjoyed seeing her vast wardrobe. Her spaghetti strap dress was decorated in beads and she twisted her finger through the long pearl necklace she had on.

By that time Five was 32 years old and they were beginning to receive occasional looks when they were out together. It didn't help that Martha sometimes looked younger than she was. Though most people assumed they were related somehow some people caught on that their relationship was something more.

Though what exactly it was Five wasn't sure.

She was more than his partner. She was his friend, his family. He felt more at home in Martha's presence than he ever had in the house he grew up in. If he had to live the rest of his life only ever with Martha he thought he would get on just fine. Of course he would miss his family. Despite how they grew up he missed them every day. But Martha managed to fill most of the hole left by their absence all on her own.

There was something else as well. And, despite his impressive vocabulary, he had no clue how to articulate it. Maybe it was her. Martha was a difficult person to describe using words alone. Or perhaps it was him. Emotions and feelings were never a subject Five preferred or excelled at. Either way he supposed it didn't matter much. He and Martha were just him and Martha. What else was there to say?

When the band started up a new song Martha perked up and looked at them over her shoulder. "I love this song!" she slurred, her eyes going wide with excitement as she turned to face him once more. "We have to go dance."

Five instantly shook his head. Martha was occasionally able to convince him to dance to the radio in the privacy of their motel room after a few drinks, but in public? Absolutely not. "No way, Martha."

"Come _on_, Five." She whined, putting her hand on his arm and giving him a light shove. "Live a little, will you? You're off the clock, it's time to have fun."

Her words didn't persuade him and he shook his head once more. "You know I hate dancing in front of people."

Martha groaned and moved to get up from her chair. "Fine. I'll dance on my own." She said, "Maybe I'll even find a handsome man to keep me company while I'm at it."

Five rolled his eyes at her as she stumbled her way over to the dance floor. It wasn't that she wasn't attractive, Martha was beautiful. But she looked her physical age, both in appearance and attitude. Despite the number of years she lived and the occupation she had there was still an innocence about her that was uncommon. Putting it simply, without delving into the issue of her true age, Martha was jailbait.

He went to the bar to order them both another round of drinks. Though the illegal moonshine made in the back wasn't quite the same as a whiskey or scotch it still got the job done.

Five returned to the table and placed Martha's drink at her seat to wait for her to return. He was used to being alone with his thoughts, just not with music in the background. Instead he cast his gaze out to the crowd, looking for his partner. He found her almost instantly, her blonde hair bouncing as she danced and her beaded dress reflecting against the low lights. Five expected to see her dancing her heart out. He just didn't expect to see a man dancing with her.

He was close to Five's own age and decent looking. Black suspenders over a white dress shirt he was the classic 1920s gentlemen. Except for the fact that his hand was much too low on Martha's waist and his eyes weren't quite meeting hers. Five didn't exactly consider himself a jealous man, and he knew Martha could take care of herself, but she was borderline wasted. As her partner it was his job to protect her. Even when they were off the clock.

Five stumbled to his feet and made his way over to her. About halfway there, over the mans shoulder, Martha's face lit up when she saw him approaching. She said something to the man and stepped away from him and came over to meet Five in the middle.

"Are you here to dance with me?" she asked hopefully, a wide grin spreading onto her face.

"Yeah, I am." He answered reluctantly.

If it was even possible her smile widened and she threw her arms around his neck. His hands found her waist (her _actual_ waist, not the part of her the previous man had been holding) and allowed her to take the lead.

Slowly but surely some of his reluctance faded away until he allowed himself to have fun. Seeing how happy such a sacrifice made her made the embarrassment of dancing in public worth it. Especially when something that was relatively simple made her look like the happiest woman in the world.

Martha had a way of making him feel needed beyond his powers more than anyone previous had been able to. Five found himself hoping she knew how much he needed her.

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

With his head under the water in the bath the voices were muffled, only slightly easier to ignore, but Klaus was quickly running out of stored air. His lungs were burning and his throat was closing up. Still he pushed himself to stay under just a few seconds more. Just a few more seconds of as much peace and quiet as he could get.

Fully running out of air sent him catapulting into an upright position and as soon as his head surfaced he gasped for air. As he caught his breath his body was too full of adrenaline to notice the many other people in the room with him. But as soon as air started to travel in and out of his body Ben kneeled down next to him with a concerned expression written across his face.

"You're pushing yourself too much." His dead brother said.

Klaus' first instinct, as usual, was to reply with a harsh sense of sarcasm. This instance wasn't the first time he had to remind himself that Ben's hovering was out of concern. "I know my limits." Klaus eventually said, pushing his wet curls off his forehead. "Besides, I'm not planning on dying in the bathroom of this shitty flat."

"I would hope you weren't planning on dying period." Ben said.

Klaus knew his answer wouldn't make him feel any better so he dunked his head back under the water.

Klaus didn't like drugs. He liked the silence they and relief from withdrawals they provided him. Sure, the high was exciting, and non spirit related hallucinations were cool. But a light buzz was what he had preferred before he realized what else substances could do for him.

Really and truly the only reason he poisoned his body on the daily was for the alone time. They were the only thing that made the spirits go away. He'd tried everything else.

When he sat up once more the roar of voices crammed into the small bathroom was paired with knocking on the bathroom door. "Yeah." He managed to choke out, knowing if he waited too long to reply his family would likely assume the worst.

"Dinner just got here." Martha's voice called to him inside. "Are you almost done?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'll be right there."

As reluctant as he was to leave the small relief the bath provided him he pulled the plug to drain the water and grabbed a towel off the rack. He wrapped it around his waist and kept left his hair to air dry, not quite in the mood for fun, and wiped the steam off the mirror. He looked like shit. He always did when he managed to get sober.

Only a matter of minutes later he opened the bathroom door and in his peripheral vision immediately spotted Martha. She was leaning against the wall and her posture straightened when he stepped out of the bathroom and into the hall. "You, uh, didn't have to wait for me to eat." He said, obviously confused why she was still there.

She glanced into the bathroom for a fraction of a second before looking at him. "You sounded… I don't know. I thought something was wrong, that maybe you'd want to talk."

"Not really."

"That nothing's wrong or that you don't want to talk?"

He allowed himself a smile. "You're smart, Martha my dear." Klaus said before turning and heading to the hall closet, where he was keeping his clothes. He shook his head when he heard her footsteps following him. "So you're our therapist as well as our trainer?"

"Not exactly." She said, taking wider steps to catch up with him. "More like a concerned friend."

"Well, no need to be concerned." Klaus replied, opening the closet and digging for an outfit that suited his momentary taste. "I'm sober right?"

"Problems don't end with sobriety."

He glanced down at the scars and collapsed veins on the inside of her elbow. She was still wearing a tank top and ponytail from helping Luther with his one on one earlier that day. "Did you have withdrawals when they got you off that stuff?" she nodded. "Well imagine all that plus dead people screaming in your ear 24/7."

She winced at the thought. "You can't quiet them?"

"Don't you think I would if I could?"

Martha once again followed him as he went back to the bathroom to change into his clothes. "Well that's what we'll work on, then, isn't it? If you can get them to quiet down then, in theory, you can get them to do anything."

"Only problem is that they haven't shut up since I was 4 years old." He stepped into the bathroom and shut the door behind him. Klaus let out a sigh when he didn't hear her walk away. "Not to sound like Allison, but I think trying to fine tune my powers is a waste of your time."

"I don't think so."

"It's out of my control, unlike everyone else. It's not just up to me. You shouldn't bother."

"It's my time to waste, isn't it?"

Klaus changed into his clothes without saying another word. Sure enough when he opened the door she was still standing there looking expectant. "You shouldn't get your hopes up with me, Martha. No one else does."

She crossed her arms across her chest. "Well if you ask me that's the problem."

He wasn't quite sure what she meant, and she grabbed him by the wrist and pulled her towards the room she shared with Five he found himself silent of protest. She shut the door behind her and grabbed a sweatshirt from the dresser and looked much less self conscious once she pulled it over her head. "I understand why they under estimate you, that's an experience with drugs that's not unique to you. But I think you could potentially be more powerful than they are. The possible exception being Vanya."

Klaus scoffed and sat on the edge of the bed. "I appreciate what you're trying to do, but lying doesn't make me feel any better."

"It's not a lie." She insisted. "Luther and Diego's abilities are huge assets but are very limited. So are Allison's. Five's are spectacular but can be unpredictable. And Vanya is only learning." She came over to sit next to him on the bed. "You've resisted strengthening your abilities out of fear your whole life and look how strong you are already! Solidifying Ben without trying to? That's amazing, Klaus."

After a lifetime of being told he was a disappointment Klaus' mind was unable to truly process what she was saying. "This guy that's meant to face me-"

"Daniel?"

"Yeah." Klaus said. "There's no way I'll be able to get to where he is in time, right?"

Martha let out a small sigh. "No." she admitted. "But you do have one thing going for you."

"Which would be?"

"Daniel controls his spirits by force. Like all powers his get exhausted and sometimes the spirits can slip away or even rebel." Martha explained. "You won't be able to get to the point of having full control over them, but you don't necessarily need to. All you really need to do is learn to indefinitely solidify them and build a rapport with them. Why force them to do something when you can get them to want to do it?"

Klaus looked around at the spirits that had followed him into the room, a new one in his late teens joining the bunch. "Most of them are too out of it to help much."

"We'll focus on the ones that are." Martha said. "Daniel is a jerk to his spirits, they don't want to work for them. If you can get yours to like you than they'll fight with more gusto."

"She's right." The younger spirit said, standing across the room. "Danny doesn't have much enthusiasm."

Klaus blinked at the spirit a few times, in a state of confusion only for a moment before a though occurred to him. "What was the name of the other guy that was there with you, the one who went missing?"

"Adam." Both she and the spirit said at the same time.

"I'm a bit more than missing." He then added.

Martha looked back and forth between Klaus and the spot where Adam was standing that appeared empty to her. "What is it?" she asked, looking back at Klaus. "Is he here? He's _dead_?"

"It appears that way." Klaus said.

Adam wasn't how Klaus had pictured him in the slightest. Since he was made to go against Five he imagined Adam to have similar looks and stature. On the contrary Adam was tall, muscular, and kind looking. He had dimples on both sides of his tanned face and despite his clear physical strength, had a gentleness about him. As the fact that he was dead sunk in with Martha he came over to kneel in front of her.

"I'm sorry." Klaus said, suddenly feeling incredibly awkward that he was the reason she'd found out about the death of someone who was clearly her friend.

Martha shook her head. "It's okay." She assured him. "I had a feeling. I just didn't expect him to keep tabs on me."

Adam rolled his eyes at her. "Is that a joke?"

"I don't think he believes that." Klaus translated.

"I just figured he'd have better things to do."

Both Adam and Klaus laughed, knowing there was nothing better to do in the afterlife than spy on your loved ones.

"I always knew she'd be the one to break out." Adam said to him. "She was kind of a Hellraiser."

Klaus repeated what she said and it was then Martha's turn to laugh. "Sounds like something he'd say." She said. "Five too."

"I'm really glad they found each other." Adam said. "She talked about him a lot. She ahd us fooled that she was on our side, but he was the one we were worried about changing her mind."

Klaus threw his hands up in the air. "Even he knows you and Five are a thing?" he asked dramatically.

Martha slapped his arm and shushed him harshly. "Keep your voice down will you?" she hissed. "Because if anyone overhears you'll be the one explaining what you're talking about."

He laughed. "Oh gladly." He said. "Can't wait for you to hear what I've got to say."

She rolled her eyes at him and glanced at the door as if to make sure no one was coming. "You're an idiot." She said to him. But he could tell by the look on her face that she didn't intend it to be mean.

"It's excruciating watching them and not being able to interject."

"Tell me about it." Klaus agreed.

Adam suddenly turned serious and shifted towards Klaus. "I hope you know she knows what she's talking about." He said to him. "All of it. You have to get the others to trust her."

"What did he say?" Martha asked.

"That I have to help the others to trust you."

She snorted. "That's likely."

Adam shook his head and attempted to put his hands on her cheeks but they went right through her. "Since when are you such a pessimist?" he asked despite the fact that she couldn't hear him, then looked over at Klaus. "They really ruined her. Five knows it too, I can tell. They ruined all of us, but they got her the worst. I don't think I would have seen it if I hadn't died."

He sounded almost glad about it. "That's a bit morbid." Klaus pointed out.

Adam shrugged. "The whole thing is morbid, isn't it?" he asked. "And now I can go wherever I want. Whenever I want."

"You could have done that if you escaped like she did."

He shook his head. "I was too brainwashed to even think of it." Adam said. "Besides, I didn't have someone waiting for me on the outside like she did."

"So does everyone know about that?"

"Know about what?" Martha asked.

"You and Five."

She rolled her eyes and got to her feet, walking right through Adam. "He was right." She said, "You guys are nosy."

"We're nosy because we care." Klaus said, referring to both his family and Adam with a gesture of his hand. "Besides, he told me all I needed to know about you."

She whipped around to face him. "He did?" she asked. "What did he say?"

"That you guys were, you know, _involved_."

"What else?"

Klaus didn't want to betray the small amount of trust his brother had in him, but it was clear those 2 were hopeless and needed _someone's_ help. It was entirely possible that their days were numbered with their inevitable face off against the commission looming in their future they should have been making the most of their time together, not tiptoeing around the issue.

He let out a sigh. "Alright, alright. He basically said that he feels like he messed up. He never really talked to you about what was going on because he thought you guys were going to be partners until the end of time and run off into the sunset."

Her cheeks flushed. "That's what I thought too."

"Why did you guys stop working together anyway?"

She let out a sigh and leaned against the windowsill. "It was my fault." She admitted. "I was reckless. They realized our partnership wasn't exactly traditional and decided we were more of a risk together than an asset." Martha shook her head and quickly changed the subject. "What else did she say?"

There wasn't much more Klaus wanted to reveal. Though he did enjoy meddling people's business he figured these were the types of thing they ought to say to each other directly. But that was something they clearly didn't plan on doing. "Not much else. Just that he doesn't really sleep because he stays up all night making sure you're okay."

"He does?" Klaus nodded. "Lying son of a bitch. I asked him if he was sleeping okay a couple of days ago and he said he was."

"Maybe he doesn't want you to worry."

"Bullshit. I'm always worried."

"You should tell him that."

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

The light from the street lamps shinning in the window was just bright enough for him to read the clock on the wall. A quarter past 1 and Five was still awake. He had actually managed to sleep for almost 6 hours the night before, but ever minutes of it had been plagued with nightmares, most of which had to do with either the apocalypse or what happened with Martha at the commission. Was getting a little bit of sleep even worth it when it was always so horrible? He didn't think so.

When Martha turned over besides him he assumed she was just stirring in her sleep. It wasn't until she spoke that he knew she was awake. "Five?"

He turned on his side to face her. "Yeah?"

"You're awake?"

"Yeah."

She sighed and pushed the blankets off her torso. "Do you think they're right?" Martha asked. "Do you think I'm wasting my time, that just the 8 of us can't do it all on our own?"

"I think my family is full of idiots who have never stepped foot in the commission." He replied. "You know what you're doing."

"Do I?"

"You do." He assured her. "Why are you so worried? What's going on?"

She shrugged. "I'm just thinking about what will happen if all this doesn't work."

"It will work."

"You don't know that. What if it doesn't?"

Five hesitated. She was right, he just didn't want to admit it. "Then we'll figure it out."

"And if they try to separate us again?"

"We don't work for them anymore." He said. "They can't tell us what to do."

A smile spread across her face and she suddenly scooted close enough to wrap her arms around his waist and rest her head on his chest. Even with his younger, smaller, body they still fit together like 2 puzzle pieces. He rested his chin on top of her head and crossed his eyes, enjoying one of the rare instances of relaxation.

"What's the first thing you're going to do when we stop the apocalypse?" she asked him.

It was a game they liked to play back when they spent hours at a time in motel rooms. What would they do if their life was different somehow. Five never liked the scenarios that would have prevented them from meeting.

"I don't know." He admitted. He had spent the last 45 years of his life with the apocalypse always on his mind. Even if it was towards the back. What would he do with himself once it was no longer a worry. "I guess figure out where and when I want to live. What about you?"

"I'm gonna get a back brace."

"What?"

"You think the commission is gonna keep me like this after we go up against them like that?" Martha asked. "No way. They're going to let me age, and my back will get worse."

It was easy to forget about Martha's condition since it was still in its early stages. The shape of her spine was really only noticeable if he really looked for it, and even then it was slight. Still, it caused her back pain when she pushed herself too hard. There were countless times he'd had to help her into bed at night after a particularly challenging mission. The thought of her condition getting any worse was not a pleasant one.

"Maybe we could make some kind of deal with them." Five suggested, "One that includes keeping you this age."

"And they can age you up too." She added.

"Or maybe they could keep us the same."

Martha looked up at him, her eyebrows hopefully climbing up on her forehead. Seeing how happy his suggestion of a possibility made her caused his stomach to do a summersault. "Really?" she asked, "You'd want that?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

"I just thought you'd want to go back to your real age." She said with a shrug.

"I thought so too." Five admitted. "But now I'm not too sure."

Five figured there were worse things in the world than not getting his proper body back. He also figured that not getting to be with Martha because of his age was one of those worse things.


	10. Chapter 9: Stressful Conditions

As usual I'm sorry for my inconsistent uploads. I'm actually right now working on winding down this story (don't worry- that won't be coming just yet I'm prewriting) so I can work on even bigger and better projects. As always thank you so much to anyone who keeps up with my stories and is kind enough to leave a review.

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_Calabasas, California, 1986_

With an irritated sigh Five pushed himself off the motel bed to check out the window for any sign of Martha. She'd gone out to get them something to eat a little over an hour before and he was beginning to grow inpatient. She wasn't the type of person to leave him hanging. In fact, she was the type of person to walk 5 blocks to find a payphone and let him know she was going to be late. But as he searched out the window for the third time there was still no sign of her.

_Maybe she crashed the car on the way back._

Five turned to face the mannequin sitting in a chair next to the bed. "That's not funny Deloris." He said, walking over and returning to the spot where he'd been. "You know it's not like her to be late."

Deloris chose not to reply. It was clear that she was jealous and somewhat threatened by his friendship with Martha. She was so used to things just being between her and Five. The fact that there were now other people involved in their dynamic was admittedly putting a strain on their relationship. He turned his attention back to the television playing the nightly news.

It was about another half hour before Five heard the sound of a key in the motel door. Martha rushed inside holding not only a takeout bag but a few shopping bags from different department stores. He swung his legs off the bed and stood up as she set the bags down on top of the table next to the door.

"It takes two hours to pick up dinner?" Five asked, unable to keep his tone cool. He had spent the entire time sitting there worried sick and all the while she was out shopping?

Martha rolled her eyes at him and shoved one of the department store bags into his arms. "No. But it takes two hours to track down an almost exact replica of your favorite sweater you ruined last month." She said with just as much attitude. "You're welcome."

She turned his back to him to unpack their dinner and he opens up the bag to look at its contents. The sweater she was referring to was a pullover wool sweater that was a dark grey with a navy diamond pattern. He wore it as much as possible and it was one of the few articles of clothing he'd ever attached sentimental value to. Maybe because it was the first birthday present someone outside of his family had given him. Maybe it was because Martha had given it to him. Either way the sweatshirt he pulled out of the bag was a spitting image of his old one.

When he looked up to thank her he saw that she was sitting in a chair that she'd pulled up to be next to Deloris. She had another shopping bag in her lap that she was digging through and he wondered what other surprises she had in store for him. "What's in there?"

Without looking up she pulled out a long, thin, aquamarine sequins scarf. "I saw it in the store and thought Deloris would like it." She explained, wrapping the garment around the mannequins neck. "You keep her wardrobe too limited. A woman needs to feel exceptional every once in a while." She also pulled out a bottle of nail polish in the same color and set it on the table beside her. "This will be for after dinner."

Five blinked at her a few times, even more stunned than he had been by her present. They'd been partners for over a year and she was still a constant surprise. "You know that… she's not real, right?"

Martha turned in the chair to face him. "Do _you_ know that?"

"Of course."

She shrugged her shoulders and stood up. "She's important to you. Whether she's real or not doesn't really matter does it?" she said. "It takes more than being supportive in the field to be a good partner." She started towards the bathroom and placed her hand on his shoulder as she passed him. "Eat that food you've been waiting so long for."

Martha walked the short distance to the bathroom and shut the door behind her. Five pulled his new sweatshirt over his head and sat down in the chair next to Deloris, adjusting the scarf a bit, a small smile appearing on his face.

_Maybe she's not so bad after all._

Five's smile grew, something that actually happened now that he had both Deloris and Martha supporting him and allowing him to feel comfortable. "No," he agreed, "She's alright."

When most people saw that his closest companion was half of a mannequin they looked at him like he was crazy. Martha never judged. And Five couldn't think of another person who would ever buy Deloris a gift. He needed to stop underestimating her.

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

In early May sitting on the roof of the apartment building, even in London, the heat was causing everyone to shed the few layers they had. Klaus had abandoned everything except for a pair of tight jeans. Martha had on a tank top with her hair tied up and had her head back against her chair. Allison was attempting to fan herself with her hand. Even Diego, who was practicing aiming on a target hung up on one of the walls, had abandoned his usual attire for a t-shirt.

"This is ridiculous." He said suddenly, turning towards Martha sitting next to Five on a bench that had already been up there. "My aim is fine, I don't need to practice."

"It's not about aim." She replied without picking her head up. "It's about maintaining focus under stressful conditions."

"It's not even that hot out."

"It'll settle in." With a small groan she picked herself up and got to her feet. Five, who had been dozing off beside her, was suddenly alert when he felt her move. "Let's try something else."

She walked across the roof and over to the target pinned up on the wall. Martha ripped out the thumbtack and when she let go of the target it was suspended in the air. "A _moving_ target under stressful conditions."

"I still don't see the point of this." Diego muttered as he pulled out a knife and hit the bullseye with ease.

"Then humor me." Martha replied.

Diego rolled his eyes and chose not to verbally reply. He was certainly the last to warm up to their unexpected guest but it seemed he finally had. His questioning of her tactics didn't last long and he was no longer harsh while speaking to her. He had even smiled at something she said the night before. Both Martha and the target circled Diego on the roof, every so often changing direction at the last second. She was trying to figure out how to outsmart him, Five could tell, she just couldn't figure out how.

Her face lit up for a fraction of a second before it quickly evened out. "Tell me about Eudora." She said

"No."

"Tell me." She repeated, taking a few steps towards him. Her words came out more articulated and the siblings wondered if she was using her abilities to influence him.

They got their answer when Diego's expression looked glazed over for a moment. He shook his head before speaking. "She's dead. What else is there to say?"

"Lots." Martha replied. "You were close with her. How did you meet?"

"On a case."

"One you assigned yourself to?"

He sent her a half-hearted glare. "Yeah, maybe."

"Were you involved with her?"

"I'll answer that question when you do."

"Funny." She said flatly. "I think that's all the answer I need."

Diego rolled his eyes at her. "Oh, is that so?"

"Let me take a guess; you two had something, but what you both wanted was different. She's focused on work and you were too rouge for her. You kept showing up to crime scenes, sure, to help. But it was mostly just to see her for a little while. And the more you involved yourself the more you got to see her."

Diego threw another knife that landed with a particularly hard _thud_. "And what's it to you, huh? Or are you just some kid that can't keep her nose out of people's business?"

"I'm 6 times your age." She reminded him. "And you're angry at the commission, I need to know why. You need to learn to either use that anger to your advantage or let it go. Letting it take over you isn't an option. I'm trying to help you with that."

"And why aren't you mad, Martha?" Diego asked, turning away from the target and towards her. "They turned you into a freak. Why not blow the whole damn place up?"

She scoffed at him. "You think I'm not angry? Of course I am. But I know better than to make revenge my motivation. It makes you reckless and sloppy when we need to be calculated and well planned."

"Yeah, and for what?" Diego asked. "What if none of this works? What if we walk in there and get ourselves killed?"

Martha stared at him, her mouth open but no words coming out. After everything she'd experienced it wasn't exactly a surprise that words didn't typically get to her. But what Diego said made her shoulders tense and her lips purse. "You know what, I think you've done enough for today." She quickly turned her back to him. "Vanya, you're up."

Diego looked like he wanted to say something more, likely an apology, but ended up staying silent and going to sit down when Vanya reluctantly got up.

It was clear she was nervous. The only person she'd practiced in front of was Martha. Had she gained enough control to do okay in front of her siblings? She glanced back at them and received a thumbs up from Allison.

"I don't know if I can do this." She whispered to Martha. "Maybe we should go downstairs."

"Stressful conditions, remember?" Marta said, then leaned in and dropped her voice low. "I know you're scared of what they're going to think, but it doesn't matter. With enough practice you'll be more powerful with them."

"I don't know…"

"I do." Martha stepped back. "I want you to push me back. As hard as you can. Don't worry about hurting me I can catch myself if I need to."

Vanya looked uncertain but didn't argue. She held her hands up in front of her and when she pushed them out Martha stumbled backwards.

Both women smiled and Martha stepped closer to her. "Again." She said, "_Harder_."

A shallow crease settled between Vanya's brows and she repeated the motion of her hands. This time, however, Martha fell back about 2 feet. She quickly caught herself and made to get closer to Vanya but she pushed her back again.

The siblings watched in amazement as they continued this routine and moved across the roof, Vanya pushing her back even when Martha began to use a fraction of her powers. They moved all the way across the roof until Martha reached the edge. The closer they got the more anxious Five became, and when the back of her ankles hit the ledge he was practically vibrating.

Martha glanced down at the drop off the building behind her before looking back at Vanya. The struggle on her face was visible and Martha managed to step forward about another foot and a half. A grunt of effort escaped Vanya and with another push of her hands Martha flew backwards. Her legs slammed against the ledge and she stumbled backwards, her arms flying out as she began to fall over.

Before anyone had the chance to react Martha froze in mid air, catching herself with her own abilities. Vanya clapped her hands over her mouth in shock at herself and Five quickly jumped from the bench where he was sitting to standing on the ledge in front of her. He held onto her hand as she brought herself back onto the roof, his face looking pale like he had seen a ghost. Five opened his mouth to insist they were done but as soon as her feet were on the ground she slipped her hand from his grip and she ran over to Vanya.

"That was amazing!" she exclaimed, putting her hands on the woman's shoulder. "My god, Vanya, that was great!"

She shook her head in protest. "No, it wasn't! I could have killed you."

Martha scoffed at her. "Oh please. That's what I wanted you to do, I knew I could catch myself." She was beaming at her, looking almost as happy as she had the day she arrived when she first saw Five. "Your progress is fantastic. I'm really proud of you Vanya."

Her face flushed pink and she seemed to be too bashful to reply.

"You _wanted_ to go over the edge of a 15 story building?" Five asked her, coming over to the two women. "Are you crazy, Martha?"

"I'm an enthusiastic teacher."

He rolled his eyes at her. "Are you trying to give me a heart attack?"

She smirked at him. "You're old enough for one even if you don't look it."

Five didn't seem to be in the mood for jokes. He grabbed onto her hand and in a flash they had disappeared from the rooftop and into their shared bedroom. Once there he closed the bedroom door so they would continue to have privacy once his siblings came down. "This isn't funny, Martha."

"It's a little funny."

He groaned and turned to sit on the edge of the bed, propping his elbows on his knees and covering his face with his hands. When he looked back up at her Martha's smile had disappeared and she looked to be feeling guilty. "What would have happened if you didn't catch yourself quickly enough? And we would have been forced to watch you die? Did you think about the possibility of that happening?"

"Not really." Martha admitted. She came over and put her hands on his shoulders. Even through the fabric of the shirt he wore her touch was comforting. A solid reminder of both her safety and presence. "You could have seen me get killed a million times before. I don't know what's so suddenly shocking about it now."

"I'm worried about you." He answered as if it was obvious.

She shook her head. "You've always been worried, what's different now?" she moved one of her hands to rest on his cheek. "Talk to me."

He wasn't sure if he was just comfortable with her or if she was using her abilities to sway him but he found himself talking before he really thought about it. "I guess my fuse has gotten shorter since you've been gone. And it doesn't help that I'm surrounded by my family."

He tilted his head up to look at her and saw that she didn't seem completely satisfied with his answer. "Why are you so angry, Five? You've always been a jerk but this is different."

Five laughed before he realized she wasn't kidding. There was a humor in truth and Martha knew better than anyone how mean he could be. "It's nothing."

"It's something." She insisted.

He held onto her hand and pulled her to sit next to him. Her knees touched his when she turned to face him but Five found himself looking at the floor instead of her. "I guess…" he began, "you've only been here for a week, and I don't know what I would do if something happened to you before we really had the chance to live."

Something they often wondered aloud about is what they would do if they were no longer in the commission. There they sat, ties cut, and the beginning of a real life sitting at their feet. After what she had escaped it would be a true tragedy if Martha died before she got the chance to truly live whatever life she wanted.

In his peripheral vision he saw her tilt her head down. "I never really thought about it like that." She admitted.

"I just don't understand why you have to keep putting yourself in situations where you could hurt yourself."

She shrugged her shoulders. "If that's what it takes to prepare for the commission then that's what it takes."

"Well my heart may completely stop next time so please stop doing it."

"I'm used to there being no threat of harm in the commission." She confessed. "During experiments or training if anything serious happened to me they could just go back in time and avoid it. I avoided a lot of concussions, apparently." Martha shook her head, "I guess that's an adjustment to the outside world that's taking a while."

Five looked up at her and when their eyes met she squeezed his hand. "I don't want anything to happen to you, Martha." He said. "You just got back."

"Nothing's going to happen." She assured him. "Not until we face the commission, at least."

"Even then."

"You can't say that."

"I just did."

Martha let out a sigh and turned her body away from him slightly. "What if Diego is right?"

"The only person that's ever been right in my family is me."

She punched his arm with the hand that wasn't linked with his. "Realistically, we are walking into a death trap. We have a really good team but are we really a match for the commission? The technology they have is other worldly. They have thousands of people working there. There's eight of us and all we have is a stolen suitcase and an unhealthy dynamic. They're all right, I'm in over my head."

"You're not."

"I am." She insisted. Martha stood up and began to pace the room. "Maybe we should have a back up plan, a way to hide. I mean, it's different if it was just me going into the lion's den. But if I walk you all in there and something happens to you I…" her voice trailed off and she stopped pacing to look down at the floor. "I just don't know what to do, Five."

Her demeanor, guilty and shameful, and her voice, soft and broken, made her seem like not much more than a scared little girl. It wasn't a sight he was used to seeing. Her switch between merriment and brutality was something familiar. But seeing her genuinely broken down was foreign before her arrival in London and he still wasn't sure what to say.

"We have time before that." He attempted. "Time that we'll use to plan and prepare."

She shook her head, wrapping her arms around herself. "You don't know that." She said. "Do you really think that they don't know where we are? That they aren't watching us and planning a counter attack every time we say something? I took one of their suitcases to get here. And who knows, maybe the chip had a tracking device after all."

Her rambling sounded like something that would have come from his own scrambled brain. Five shook his head despite the fact that she wasn't looking. "Don't say that." He scolded her. "Speculating won't do any good. Think practically."

She tilted her head up towards the ceiling and threw her hands out to the side. "What's the point?" she asked him. "I mean, maybe we shouldn't be so certain things will be okay. Maybe we should do all the things we want to do before we die."

"Martha, stop." Five scolded, standing up and walking forward until he could tilt her head down to look at him. "If the others hear you talking like this they'll be out of control."

"What's the point?" she asked again. Only instead of looking angry like she had before she looked tired. Her voice came out in a whisper, like she could no longer muster the energy to speak much louder. "Do you know what you want to do before you die? Because I do."

He looked at her, trying to decide what it might be that she was thinking of. Her expression was hard to read and on the surface seemed to be blank. But there was something hidden, he just couldn't identify it. "I do know." He answered. "But I'm not worried. I have time."

"I want you to be happy, Five."

"I am happy."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "You're not."

Actually he was. He was filled with more hope than he'd felt his entire life. He had his family, and each of them were making an effort to do better. Including him. And he had Martha. Five considered himself a simple man. He couldn't think of much more to ask for.

"I am happy." He assured her. "Are you?"

"I think I'm too worried." She answered. "I think to myself _if I died tomorrow morning, would I have lived a fulfilling life_? For the most part I have. But there's things I want to do before I go."

"Things like what?" Five asked. "We'll do it tomorrow."

Martha shook her head at him. "It's not the kind of thing you can just do on a Wednesday afternoon." She said. "It's alright. I suppose it's not the worst thing in the world if it doesn't happen."

"Tell me what it is."

"No."

"You're impossible."

She smiled, though it seemed somewhat sad, and she surprised him closing the distance between them and wrapping her arms around his neck. For once Five wished his ability was being able to read people's minds since she seemed so set on not telling him what she was thinking. But all he could do in that moment was hug her back and hope she would change her mind and open up.

"We're going to be fine." He said into her hair. Though he too had his doubts about how waltzing into the commission would play out there was no need to voice them when she was obviously upset about it. "Then you can do all the things you want without worry."

Her head was perched under his chin and he felt her tilt up towards him. "Yeah." She said. "Maybe."

They stayed like that, standing in the middle of their room silently embracing each other, even after they heard the front door open and his siblings enter the apartment. It was only after they started calling out for them that the two separated, faces red, and went outside to return to the rest of the group. As he followed her out into the living room Five felt his skin buzzing with the ghost of her touch and he pretended like he forgot something in the room so he could go and compose himself.


	11. Chapter 10: Planted

I know, I know, I suck for not updating often. Working full time and going to school part time is kicking my ass. But I got an idea for a sequel for this story so it's kind of re lit the fire in me for now. In the mean time I hope you enjoy!

* * *

Downtown Chicago, behind the _Bunnyslope Bar_, January 18th 1918

Five and Martha hovered beside the dumpster behind the bar, each smoking a cigarette and pretending they weren't paying attention to the conversation going on behind them. Johnny Caputo, a man towards the top of the Chicago Mob food chain, was in the middle of ordering a last-minute hit to a younger middle man who seemed intimidated by his presence. Snow fell from the sky above their heads and gave a certain charm to an other wise unappealing scene.

They were supposed to exterminate Caputo as soon as he was by himself but the hit order was taking much longer than they expected. Four cigarette butts lay on the ground between their feet and Martha was vibrating in an attempt to keep herself warm. As Five took a drag he grabbed her gloved hands and rubbed them as quickly as he could to create some friction.

"We should just take them both out." She whispered to him, leaning close. "I might need to get something amputated if we stay here much longer."

"Go inside." He whispered back. "I can do the job by myself."

She shook her head, the hair that stuck out under her hat flying across her face. "No way." She said. "What kind of partner would I be if I left you alone out here?"

"A warm one."

She smiled but didn't go anywhere.

It was another 5 minutes before the younger man walked away and they quickly dropped their cigarettes on the ground to extinguish them. When Five looked up and past Martha he spotted Caputo heading over to them with a certain swagger in his stature that hadn't been there before. Before he got the chance to give Martha some kind of silent warning Caputo was standing behind her and clearing his throat.

Her head snapped and she spun on her heels to face him, which only caused him to laugh. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you like that." He said, a thick accent dripping from his tongue. "I was just coming over to ask if I could buy you a drink."

"Oh um…" Martha stuttered, glancing up at Five as if to silently ask for help.

"Oh, are you two together?" Caputo asked.

Martha's expression lit up before she looked away from Five and back at their target. "No." she said, placing her hand on Five's arm. "He's my business partner. I'd love a drink."

Five opened his mouth to protest, or to try and insert himself into the situation somehow, but before he could Caputo gestured his hand towards the door. "Lead the way."

Martha headed towards the back door of the bar, Caputo tailing behind her, and shot a look at Five over his shoulder. _Stay_ she mouthed before disappearing inside and leaving him outside in the January cold. What other choice did he have than to listen to her?

Five alternated between pacing back and forth and smoking a bit more while he waited for her. He didn't want to take the chance of tipping their target off by going inside and hovering. Besides, he knew Martha could handle herself. She could poison his drink or lead him off to a secluded part of the club and take him out there. Five wasn't worried that she could do it. He was just worried about her doing it alone.

He was standing in a spot obscured from the view of the back door when it slammed open and there was the sound of a struggle. Five ducked behind the corner of the building, peeking around the corner and watched two people stumble out the door. One was much larger and had a grip on the back of the smaller figure's shirt collar.

"Who are you working for, huh?" A gruff voice asked, shoving the smaller person forward. "Carisi? Bruno?"

The smaller person straightened up. "No one." Martha's voice said. "You've got the wrong idea."

Five's heart stopped for a split second at the sound of her voice. He made to join them but before he could he heard Caputo's reply.

"Don't lie to me." He barked. Five stepped closer to the corner to get a better view and watched Caputo pull a gun out and point it at Martha's head. "Tell me who you're with and I might let you live."

"I'm not with anyone you know." Martha answered honestly, not sounding threatened in the slightest. "And I suggest you put your gun down."

A crack rang through the night as the barrel of the gun connected with Martha's nose. She yelped, both in pain and surprise, and stumbled back. Her hand flew up to her face as Caputo spoke again. "I don't take orders from broads."

The words had barely left his lips before Five jumped the space that separated them so he was standing behind the mob boss. In one motion he took his gun out from his holster, held it to the back of Caputo's head, and pulled the trigger. Martha screamed, covering her head as if to prepare for the bullet to pierce her, but she peeked through her hands at the sound of Caputo's dead body hitting the floor with a _thud_.

Five stepped over his body and reached for his partner. "Are you okay?" he asked her.

She nodded her head, "I'm fine." She answered. But the blood pooling from her likely broken nose said differently. "Good job."

He gripped both of her shoulders and pulled her towards him and in a blink of an eye they were back in their motel room. Five sat her down on her bed and rushed to get the first aid kit in the bathroom.

"You don't have to make such a big fuss!" she called after him. "It's just a little blood."

Five waited to reply until he was standing in front of her and taking gauze out of the kit. "He could have killed you." He said.

"No, he couldn't have." She replied. "Not while you were there."

Maybe she was right, maybe it wasn't such a big deal. Five had experienced a broken nose before and it certainly wasn't the worst thing in the world. It was the blood that made it seem gruesome. Perhaps he was so frazzled because he'd never seen his partner hurt before. They'd only been working together for a year and the worst he'd seen her encounter was a twisted ankle. He wasn't typically the caregiver type but she was his partner, and partially his responsibility. So he told her to shut up and let him work, and thankfully she complied.

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

The radio sitting on the countertop filled the room with music from the early 90s while Klaus pursed his lips at the cards in his hand before discarding with a unsatisfied grunt. The Umbrella Academy, with the exception of Five who was in the shower down the hall, sat at the kitchen table playing Rummy with Martha. Since playing cards was one of the few things she'd had to pass the time in the commission she was pretty damn good and was wiping out the competition.

"We started to bet our chores for the week." She said when Luther asked her how she'd gotten so good. "I wasn't that good before that, but I got good. I had dish duty and was determined to give it to someone else."

"You guys had chores?" Allison asked, clearly confused how the commission had gotten people hundreds of years old to do chores like children.

Martha nodded her head. "Besides transporting us from rooms, monitoring us during training, and experiments we were pretty self sufficient." She told them. "You ever hear how prisoners are the only thing keeping jails up and running because they do everything?"

Everyone answered no except for Klaus, who had once worked in the laundry room in one of his short stunts in prison.

"Well it's kind of like that." She explained. "Daniel and I were in the kitchen, he prepared everything and I cleaned up. Though once in a poker game I got Viktor to take my chores for 3 months." She placed one of her cards into the discard pile and looked up at them. "You guys never traded chores growing up?"

Diego scoffed. "We never had chores." He answered. "That's why Grace was built."

"Oh." Martha replied shortly.

"Five never told you a lot about how we grew up, did he?" Luther guessed as he took his turn.

She shook her head. "He never really talked about himself in general." She told them. "When we first started working together he always had Vanya's book with him, and I peeked inside a few times, which is the only reason I know most of what I do. But he caught me reading it once because I didn't hear the shower turn off and he stopped bringing it with him."

Vanya's cheeks turned pink. "He kept my book with him?"

Martha nodded. "And he did tell me some stuff. But only good things. Like going to the doughnut shop on Sunday mornings or when you guys had time off from training."

"But he never said much about our dad?" Diego asked.

"No, not really." Martha said. "It was clearly a touchy subject, but I didn't ask. And since we were together all the time it was kind of hard to try to find anything out behind his back. I just figured if he wanted to tell me one day he would."

Klaus laughed, "Maybe you're better off not knowing what happened with Reggie."

"Was it really bad?"

They all nodded somberly.

"Though I guess it's better than being held captive and pumped full of steroids." Klaus commented.

His siblings all expected his joke to hit a nerve with the girl but she just rolled her eyes and punched his arm. "I'm sort of realizing I don't know as much about him as I thought I did." Martha admitted. "I mean, I don't even really know anything about what he did before the commission. I know they picked him up from the apocalypse, but I don't know how he got there in the first place."

Allison raised an eyebrow at her. "He never told you?"

Martha shook her head. "No, never." She said. "He never really talked about anything having to do with the apocalypse. It's really hard, I imagine."

"Do you want us to tell you?" Luther asked.

She quickly looked up, her eyes widening slightly. "You know how it happened?"

"We were kind of there." Allison said.

They took her setting her cards down and resting her arms on the table as a silent request for them to go on.

"He'd been talking about time travel for months." Vanya began. It only made sense for her to tell the story, being that she was the closest to him in the family. "Studying everything he could, practicing special jumps even after training hours were over. He pretty much became obsessed with it. He brought it up to our dad, and he shut it down immediately, and he stormed out. And that was the last time we saw him until he came back."

Martha's jaw hung loose. "What happened?"

"He decided to do it anyway. And he pushed himself too far into the future and got stuck in the apocalypse.

Martha's gaze fell down to the cards on the table, her eyes looking somewhere far away. "Wow." She said simply. "He never told me that."

"You guys seem so close." Allison commented, "I thought you would have known everything about each other."

She glanced up at her in a way that was almost a glare. "We are close." She said shortly. "But we never really talked about our lives before we met. Neither of us did."

"How did the commission find him in the apocalypse anyway?" Luther asked in an attempt to steer the conversation in a different direction while still staying on topic.

"Once they have their eye on a possible new hire they surveillance them for about 5-10 years." Martha explained, "So they were probably watching him even before he was in the apocalypse. I was a receptionist and had to give messages from one department to another, and you wouldn't believe how many times I heard his name."

"How did they find you?" Diego asked, raising an eyebrow at her.

"Through my mom." she answered. "They wanted her for HR. She can resolve any argument imaginable. While they were watching her, they started watching me. They knew I could defend myself because I got bullied at school, but they hired my mom before they knew for sure they wanted me so they stuck me in reception."

"What about dad?" Klaus asked, "They got a job for him too?"

Martha shook her head. "I don't have a dad. I'm adopted."

"You don't think…" Vanya's voice trailed off with uncertainty. She looked down at her hands and picked at her cuticles before she had the courage to continue. "You don't think there's a chance you were born like us, do you?"

She blinked at her a few times. "No," she said simply, "I was born in 1969 in the Hamptons."

"What if that's just what they told you?"

"The commission hired me in 1986." She reminded them, "Before any of you were born."

"They deal with time, right?" Diego countered, "They could have just planted you there."

She shook her head as if she was shaking off the possibility. "Why would they do that?"

No one had an answer to that.

"You said all the other people with you were also like us." Said Allison. "It makes sense to use drugs to enhance already existing powers. But it doesn't make sense to use steroids to create powers from nothing." she set her cards face down on the table. "We were the only ones of the 43 that were ever in the public eye. That leaves 36 unaccounted for. It might make sense for them to hide literal human weapons in plain sight, like the past. 'Track them down', that's how you said it when you told us the commission was getting them. Maybe they hid some of them so well that even they couldn't find them."

Martha didn't say anything as she looked down at her scarred arms. It wasn't until she was getting to her feet and pushing her chair out that she muttered a quick 'if you'll excuse me' and exited the room. The siblings glance at each other, realizing quickly that they had struck some sort of news.

In a matter of seconds she was outside the bathroom door knocking. "I said I'd tell you when I'm done, Klaus!" Five's irritated voice called from the other side of the wood.

"It's me." She said shortly, afraid if she said much more her voice would give away how upset she was.

There was the sound of movement and less than a minute later the door flew open. Five was dressed but his hair was soaking wet and yet to be styled. He took one look at her and stepped into the hallway to be closer to her. "What's wrong?"

Martha's bottom lip trembled and she quickly pulled him into a hug, hiding her face in his neck, before she spoke again. "Can we not talk about it?" she asked him. "I'll tell you later, just… not right now."

"Yeah, of course." He answered, his arms finding her waist. "Do you want to go do something? Maybe it will distract you."

She pulled away just enough to look at him and nod her head. "Yeah, okay." Martha answered. Her hands still on the back of his neck made his hairs stand on end. "Where do you want to go?"

"Anywhere. Let's go for a walk."

Martha's lips pulled into a smile. "Okay. I'll wait for you to dry your hair."

"No," Five said, grabbing her hand and pulling her down the hall in the direction of the front door. "Let's just go."

Martha didn't protest and soon they were out the door and heading towards the streets of London. Though Five was itching to find out what had happened to make her so upset he knew better than to press the topic. For Martha to not only admit to being hurt but to actively seek out someone to comfort her was a big deal. He knew she would get around to telling him, she always did. Five just kept his fingers crossed it wasn't anything earth shattering.


End file.
